Marina Abramović, “The Staring Woman at MoMA”

By

THIRD ATTEMPT TO GO STARE AT HER

This was 5 days later, a Friday. I don’t think we had mentioned MoMA since the previous attempt.

Me, 6:16 PM
i’m attempting to write [this essay] on us going to see the staring woman, [subplot omitted from this essay]

Thomas, 6:21 PM
[subplot omitted from this essay]

does that mean we need to actually go sometime soon?

Me, 6:22 PM
[subplot omitted from this essay]

[subplot omitted from this essay]

don’t think we need to go, i’m attempting [this essay] as a humorous piece on how we talked it up so long then decided in like 5 seconds not to go

Thomas, 6:28 PM
oh shit. sweet.

seems like we maybe should go anyways. if we can find someone with passes.

Me, 6:29 PM
i’m down

[subplot omitted from this essay]

MoMA was not mentioned Saturday or Sunday except when [subplot omitted from this essay]. Monday I was sitting on my bed in underwear looking at the internet while drinking a smoothie from my blender when I saw the woman’s face on Gawker, read that today was her last day, something about “chaos,” and that someone had vomited and someone else had “stripped nude.” It was 4:25 PM. I showered and dried myself. I read an email from Shannon that said “watching [the ‘live feed’] now with my eyes out of focus. person just put his/her hand on his/her heart, sat for another minute and then ‘had enough’. it sends a screen capture.” The next paragraph said “marina just stood up and is clasping fists in a really chill manner with ppl as she exits the stage…i guess it’s really over.”