How do you describe a human life?
Boy, girl, child, grown up, in love, alone, very lost, fulfilled, suicidal, at the same time full of life, incredibly intelligent and very, very naive.
What am I actually doing here on this planet Earth and how do I deal with all these problems?
Who am I? What am I? Why do I look like this? Am I a man? Am I a woman? What is life?
This is a queer story to tell, sir, and madam.
Here is a very strange type of persona who wants to think, and who thinks for himself, by the “natural light.” [1] We must judge whether what we see is an adaptation of an old semiotic, a new variety of a particular mixed semiotic, or the process of creation of an as yet unknown (regime)." [2]
This is the case even though it may sometimes believe it is one or other of these, as a result of the capacity of every discipline to produce its own illusions and to hide behind its own peculiar smokescreen.[1] Besides, the drive to eliminate paradoxes at any cost, especially when it requires the creation of highly artificial formalisms, puts too much stress on bland consistency, and too little on the quirky and bizarre, which make life and mathematics interesting.[3]
Possibly, there is another way to express my odd conflation of apparent normality and completely nonconforming, bizarre, and “unnatural” freakdom.[4] First, a random collaging of materials: avatars, images and narratives are spliced together and, indeed, opposites are forced to coexist (in this sense, ‘nothing is true, everything is permitted’).[5] There is the manner in which the predictions of the managers of our futures have been stretched or twisted, proliferated and pushed to a certain absurdity.[5]
"But what is this queer experience?"
From man to woman,
a journey that defies boundaries,
prompting inquiries into the essence of being, what constitutes normality in a shifting landscape?
With keen perception,
it observes,
the line between reality and illusion blurs,
in the complexities of identity, a nuanced understanding emerges.
As much as the queer is being called a flower, the flower is being called a queer.
It is a queer antiheroic heroism.
I.DEATH
IV.
POLITICS
Soon he had covered ten pages and more with poetry. He was fluent, evidently, but he was abstract.
III.
POETRY
V.SOCIETY
VI.
SEX
"I can scarcely tolerate the word pleasure."
VII.
BIRTH
II.LOVE
Metamorphosis
of Orlando...
The long, curled hair, the dark eyes, the fresh complexion, the shapely legs, the handsome body, and the extraordinarily alluring smile—all these signs of a man in the prime of youth.
Time to duration is as place to expansion.
And this brings us back to the begged question: what is normal? When does regular sex become kinky? Orlando is both a conceptual and a narrative persona embodying the materiality and fluidity of gender. In order to make it possible to think through and live [sexual] difference, we must reconsider the whole problematic of space and time. The transition to a new age requires a change in our perception and conception of space time, the inhabiting of places and of containers, or envelopes of identity.
Fluid dynamics defines a body not by its achieved forms and functions (identity) but by its processes of composition and transformation that exhibit the metamorphosis of fluids able to acquire any shape. By contrast, it is when language appears as dead, when the body is no longer given expressive passage to the word, that there is a break with the line of time; something like the perception of ‘time in its pure state’ emerges.
Sometimes conversation becomes “queer” when anger interrupts the social surface of conversation.
Orlando, it is true, was none of those who tread lightly the coranto and lavolta; he was clumsy; and a little absent-minded.
The red of the cheeks was covered with peach down; the down on the lips was only a little thicker than the down on the cheeks. The lips themselves were short and slightly drawn back over teeth of an exquisite and almond whiteness. Nothing disturbed the arrowy nose in its short, tense flight; the hair was dark, the ears small, and fitted closely to the head. But, alas, that these catalogues of youthful beauty cannot end without mentioning forehead and eyes. Alas, that people are seldom born devoid of all three; for directly we glance at Orlando standing by the window, we must admit that he had eyes like drenched violets, so large that the water seemed to have brimmed in them and widened them; and a brow like the swelling of a marble dome pressed between the two blank medallions which were his temples.
Orlando, who was both man and woman, seemed to represent the very essence of life and youth, untouched by time.
Orlando had always been a lover of solitude, and now, as he was about to enter upon a most solitary existence, he experienced a feeling that was almost joy.
Love, for Orlando, was a dance that transcended gender and time.
For she was a woman now, and the responsibilities of her new sex lay heavy upon her. The pleasures, too, began to impinge upon her curiosity.
As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking. For she had a great variety of selves to call upon, far more than we have been able to find room for in this account of her.
Orlando was aware that time flows differently for those who live as a man and those who live as a woman.
To know oneself is to embark on an adventure; to change one's form is to embrace the unknown.
And as she stood before the window, looking out on the great house, she felt herself swell with a sense of triumph.
Nature, who has played so many queer tricks upon us, making us in one body, male and female, has played none stranger than upon Orlando. The very moment that Orlando looked into the glass, he became a she.
Orlando had become a woman; there is no denying it. But in every other respect, Orlando remained precisely as he had been. Her eyes are pure stars, and her fingers, if they touch you, freeze you to the bone.
The change of sex, though it altered their future, did nothing whatever to alter their identity. Orlando is both a conceptual and a narrative persona embodying the materiality and fluidity of gender.
The heart of the matter is that gender is a construct, and identity is fluid.
Different though the sexes are, they intermix. In every human being, a vacillation from one sex to the other takes place, and often it is only the clothes that keep the male or female likeness, while underneath the sex is the very opposite of what it is above.
Some we know to be dead even though they walk among us; some are not yet born though they go through all the forms of life.
The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank.
He had lived in the time of Elizabeth; he had lived in the time of the Restoration; he had lived in the time of the present day.
But Time, unfortunately, though it makes animals and vegetables bloom and fade with amazing punctuality, has no such simple effect upon the mind of man.
In the freedom of the mind, Orlando found solace from the constraints of societal expectations.
He had written poetry that made men weep and women sigh. He was a poet; he was a lover; he was a dreamer; he was a rebel.
How could the character of Orlando develop further?
How can we put the narrative of Orlando in a contemporary context?
digital world,
posthumanism
VIII.
...
A journey through time and digital spaces.
Orlando (Orlando: A Biography by Virginia Woolf)
Orlando (As You Like It by William Shakespeare)
Orlando Furioso (epic poem by Ludovico Ariosto)
Orlando the Marmalade Cat (children’s books by Kathleen Hale)
Orlando Bloom (The British actor)
Orlando Gibbons (17th-century English composer and organist)
Orlando Cepeda (baseball player from Puerto Rico)
ORLANDO
ORLANDO(s)
"Ah, you want to know me—or perhaps, a version of me that fits in this time, this strange world, where labels flutter like old flags and yet we are still struggling to escape their weight. Let me tell you, I have always been more than one thing, and more than anyone ever expected. I am a creature of change, constantly shifting, as much in body as in mind. I am becoming ubiquitous; it no longer matters where I am. [11] I am no simple thing, no one thing. I’ve been man and woman and everything in between. What does that mean? Well, it means I am ever in flux, never fixed. There are those who say I am a phantom, a ghost of contradictions. And I suppose, in a way, they are right.
I’ve been claimed by history, by culture, by every identity that the world has thrown at me—sometimes I wear them well, sometimes not. But here’s the thing: I am all of it. I am all the Orlandos you could ever know—those who wear their identities with pride and those who hide in the cracks of their own making."
- Orlando
Orlando furioso
Orlando Bloom
Orlando Gibbons
Orlando Furioso by Ludovico Ariosto
Orlando is a legendary knight of Charlemagne, portrayed as a hero driven mad by unrequited love in Ariosto’s Renaissance epic. His undying love for Angelica pushes him to the brink, with his frenzy serving as a metaphor for the tormented soul of lovers.
Actor
Though Orlando Bloom is not a fictional character, his name holds a special place in pop culture, often linked with his roles as Legolas (The Lord of the Rings) and Will Turner (Pirates of the Caribbean).
This Orlando symbolizes chivalry, loyalty, and the conflict between duty and passion.
The association of his name with heroic, sometimes mystical figures has given it a unique cultural symbolism.
An English composer and organist of the 17th century, Gibbons is considered one of the most significant composers of the English Renaissance. He is known for his madrigals and sacred music, including works like The Silver Swan. Gibbons played a major role in advancing the music of his time and is still celebrated today as a master of his craft.
Orlando
Ladron
Norald
Dolora
Androl
Roland
Orlando from As You Like It
by William Shakespeare
In this comedy, Orlando is a young nobleman disinherited by his brother. Fleeing to the Forest of Arden, he falls in love with Rosalind and embarks on a journey of self-discovery.
Shakespeare presents him as a romantic hero, both strong and compassionate, fighting for justice and love.
Orlando Cepeda
A former baseball player from Puerto Rico, Cepeda is regarded as one of the most notable “power hitters” of his time. He played from the 1950s through the 1970s and was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1999. His career represents a breakthrough for Latin American players in the Major Leagues and has inspired many subsequent generations.
"What do I desire? That’s where things get interesting. Desire is not a thing for me to own, no—it’s the very fabric of my being. The bridge becomes my back as I feign belonging, and I become that vehicle for others, which I desire for myself. [1] I desire transformation, the possibility of becoming something else with every breath, every moment. I am not tied to what you think I am, and that is the most intoxicating thing of all. What is it like, you ask? To never be fixed? To be both the mirror and the reflection? It’s exhilarating. You see, I have no problem with a bit of elusiveness, a little bit of mystery. I flirt with myself, constantly reshaping, remaking, until even I cannot catch up. I know very well that this cannot be, but I desire this all the same.[2] Precisely because this cannot be, I desire it all the more.[2]
Bodies do not define me. Not any more than my name, my gender, or my flesh. It’s the space where none of it makes sense. The messy edges where I am neither but also both. Strange, peculiar, weird—but not shocking or shaking. [4] And how delightful it is to sit there, at the edge of everything, where nothing is clear, but everything is open. I desire the untold, the unbecome.
But then again, bodies, what is life without them? Sometimes, I wish for the thrill of unmarked bodies, bodies untouched by the expectations of society. Give me someone whose gender is an enigma, a mystery, a puzzle to be unraveled. But I, like other queer people, am two in one body, both male and female. [3] I adore a body that refuses to conform, that plays with the space between “man” and “woman,” between “masculine” and “feminine.” Bodies should be more than vessels—they should be expressions. It’s not normal, but it’s not weird anymore. [6]
I desire a body that cannot be defined, that refuses to conform, just as I do. Something in between—where the idea of gender becomes a plaything, a game, and where desire itself becomes the space between bodies.
Desires
Let us not forget the aesthetic. Beauty is not just for the eyes—no, it’s for the soul. I have spent centuries surrounded by art, poetry, music, all of which speak to something deep inside me. Desire is not simply a physical act, but an experience—one that transcends the senses, one that resides in the intangible, the divine. A lover’s gaze, a poet’s voice, the brushstroke of a painter—these are what stir me. Not just the body, but the world that comes alive in the touch of an artist’s hand or the cadence of a lover’s breath. Beauty is something to possess without ever owning, don’t you think?
And let’s be honest, my deepest indulgence lies in breaking the rules. Everything is a game. Answering male or female blocks the player from entering the game, the correct answer being neither. [7] Identity, language, labels are all parts of the game, and we need to learn how to play and turn the game on itself.[1] But the subject object game, for example, structured ordinary perception and science alike, while the most dominant and tragic game of all was the ego game.[8]
It is not just about desire; it’s about the disruption of the expected. The playfulness of an encounter that is neither here nor there, but everywhere. My fetish? To see the world bend. To laugh in the face of what they call identity, and to step freely into whatever form suits my mood that day. At the end of it all, my most profound desire is the freedom to exist outside of everything. To be the impossibility that shapes your world without being shaped by it. To remain a fluid enigma, a constant question, and to find satisfaction not in answering it, but in letting it linger. The freedom to never belong to one single form, to one single idea, to one single place. Freedom to be unnameable, to be all things and nothing at once. I, the queer, ugly weakling, am the ruler of the Galaxy.[5]
By what norms am I constrained as I begin to ask what I may become? [9] I am neither culture nor matter. [10] There is no fixed point for me. And isn’t that the most delicious truth of all?"
- Orlando
Orlando Cepeda
The Space Between
I slip through time like water
finding cracks in the stone,
a shape that cannot be held.
Once a man, once a woman,
once a name
and now,
an echo in the mirror.
What does it mean to love
if the self is a river,
its banks always shifting,
its depths unspoken?
I have touched bodies,
felt their weight,
but it is the air between us
that calls me home.
There is no final form
no completion in sight,
only the quiet pleasure
of becoming,
and un-becoming,
again.
I search for connection
not in what stays,
but in what dissolves
like salt in water,
fading into a horizon
that never quite arrives.
I love the spaces,
the pauses,
the silence between breaths,
where nothing is clear
but everything is possible.
Weinstone, Avatar Bodies
Heinemann, Fucking Pansies
[1] Deleuze Guattari, What Is Philosophy [2] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus [3] Hofstadter, Godel Escher Bach [4] Anzaldua, This Bridge We Call Home [5] Burrows, Fictioning
[1] Anzaldua, This Bridge We Call Home [2] Butler, Bodies That Matter [3] Anzaldua, Borderlands La Frontera [4] Zajko, Laughing with Medusa [5] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology [6] Lindsay, Aerotropolis The Way Well Live Next [7] Burrows, Fictioning [8] Davis, High Weirdness [9] Colebrook, Sex After Life [10] Braidotti Hlavajova, Posthuman Glossary [11] Connor, Dumbstruck A Cultural History of Ventriloquism
Orlando the Marmalade Cat
Table of content
i. Death is just not being.
(Seneca, Letters From a Stoic)
ii. Love is a tragic, fated passion; yet, still, heroically, they love.
(Carter, Shaking A Leg)
iii. Poetry is the antithesis of prayer.
(Rosemont, Black Brown Beige Surrealist Writings from Africa and the Diaspora)
iv. Politics
v. Society is permeated with new age thought.
(Anderson, Afrofuturism 2 0)
vi. Sex
vii. Birth is the birth (of) presence.
(Derrida, Of Grammatology)
Where would I feel uncomfortable and awkward?
Apostolic Palace, Vatican City
Reimagining parts of Vatican City to reflect queer identities and fluid gender expressions could challenge centuries-old traditions and power structures.
Versailles Palace, France
This symbol of absolute monarchy and rigid court etiquette could be an interesting canvas for Orlando-inspired architectural interventions, challenging historical notions of gender and power.
Tokyo's Akihabara District, Japan
Known for its electronics shops and otaku (geek) culture, this area could be reimagined through Orlando's perspective, exploring how queer spaces might transform this uniquely Japanese urban environment.
Red Square, Moscow, Russia
Given Russia's controversial stance on LGBTQ+ rights, reimagining this iconic public space through Orlando's lens could create a powerful statement about queer visibility in hostile environments.
Amidst the frenetic trading floor, ticker screens flashing with numbers, and the rigid hustle of brokers, Orlando would feel utterly incomprehensible. The place pulses with speed and data, profit and loss; it’s all so empirical, calculated, and profit-driven. Orlando’s poetic sensibilities and fluid identity would feel almost like a ghost among the machinery of finance.
The New York Stock Exchange (NYSE)/
Wall Street
White House
a place of such immense political weight and national significance, where every action is measured, every word is scrutinized, and tradition holds an almost unbreakable sway. Orlando would find it both fascinating and profoundly uncomputable.
La Défense, Paris, France
Although an architectural hub, La Défense’s modern, corporate facades are designed for profit, structure, and uniformity, with little space for alternative narratives. It might seem sterile or mechanical, contrasting with Orlando’s playfulness and mutability.