I love Spring Break

Today I adhered red-paper-circle-punches to wood painted with gouache. I wrote three poems. I read some too. I walked lots, I drank coffee, I played with a puppy and kitties. Today was a good day.

poem project: day 7

One hazard of posting a poem in progress might be the tendency for a writer to feel that once something is "published" even in such a minor space, the poem's direction has become more set, and the prospect of revision somewhat narrowed.

For me, this process has actually heightened my discernment. It is scary putting something out there in which you already know certain words will change, lines will be cut. It's not that these are filler words though; they need to be there to, at the very least, act as scaffolding; their replacement is not always immediately available. The awareness of an audience has tempted me to add notes such as "yes, I know I've used that word" or "that's clunky, but I need it right now..." because it's hard to put your awkward adolescent little poem-things out there without some apology. But I think immediacy is key for projects like this. In fact, it became almost necessary to type the second draft (after the initial scrawl in a notebook) directly into the body of the email I sent to my collaborators. The first day I wrote several options, small revisions of the versions that came before. Then I had to accept that this was a first draft, and I needed to allow for the possibility first impulses can offer. It's too early to be editing or over-thinking.

Each day I relied less on the starting image. I was not writing an ekphrastic poem and the poem told its own way. I'm already looking forward to the changes I will make, what I will cut, hone.

So, the results of the seven-day project (last section freshly written):

1.

The arrow of time does
not run parallel to the ground.
Only the change in our bodies
can mark a trajectory,
and I can't guess at the order or arrangement
of the atoms that composes us:
an inscription that lists all possible expansion.

2.

I will place myself right in the middle,
my body like a hot missile
mottled from the aftermath of violence.
I can't translate the markings
but my fingers can understand
how a pillar might blush
for the horizon.

3.

Today our slow steps pock the ground's incline,
small hieroglyphics that taper as our feet slow.
You kneel and make a tent
with your arms. Let this shelter suffice
as a marker for when the night divides
our flesh,when we sing desert songs
and gather debris for our only possessions.

4.

To fold in brambles close to chests is to trust
the expression of slope written out
in graphite, on cellophane--
to weatherproof a map's certainty.
I have made a diagram of this sharp roadside brush,
created a new taxonomy
for this unlabeled territory.

5.

This is done with an upturn
of palms, the spread of hands.
The names aren't spoken, instead recorded
with a stick in the sand.
The whole journey is written here--

wind erases and it is time again
to move.

6.

Location folds into motion:
remember only variance
in brightness, or some particular
shadow. Keep small bits
of polished wood or
a brightly colored rock. Keep
them to stand in, to--

7.

Just keep record:
proof that defies
time
even as it marks.
Catalog all sentiments
with an ear
for light, for permanence.

Poem Project . . .

So it seems that the evidence of process somewhat diminishes when you are under a time crunch. Ergo, my silence on this blog the last few days. Tomorrow is the last day, so I'll post some notebook scribbles/word banks/indecisions as well as all seven sections typed up.

In the mean time, I discovered this interesting article over on BBC News. In describing the various stages of list making, Jane O'Brien notes "the extraordinary sense of satisfaction from having created a rigid timetable of impossible tasks that has taken a disproportionate amount of time and thought.
It doesn't matter that I will never look at it again." I am happily guilty of list-making, and I too rarely look again after a list has been made. Sometimes, I have to make a list to calm my mind down enough to sleep; if I know that I have written it down for tomorrow, I can stop thinking about it today.

Any other list-makers out there? I know some of you...

Poem Project: Day 2 (Take Two)

I have to admit that despite my interest in the poem as process, I feel quite anxious posting this today. My thought process is made translucent, but so are my lapses in judgment, my misgivings, my uncertainties, my mistakes.

I have 2 sets of 7 lines to write for today. I have five sets written to choose from. I may choose a couple from this set as the first set and write second sets in response to those. Numbering the lines before writing is an interesting way to write, and the following sets gain momentum from what came before them. With the first set, the words in brackets were taken from the first word bank and arbitrarily plopped into the lines before I actually filled them with the rest of the word. It wasn't altogether successful, so I didn't finish the second line, but I did use what I wrote there to guide the writing of the second set.


It's hard to write without a specific idea in mind, so a lot of this was just trying to discover what I wanted to pursue, using the image as a point of departure. I imagine that after writing all 7 sections, I may decide to reorder to allow for new narratives to form and go from there.

I think I will not actually post the typed sections here until the 7th day. I'll probably make another word bank today, and perhaps write another set in response to that. So much in selection.

Text

fig. 1: Response to the beginning of an essay about Caroline Bergvall by Nathan Brown

fig. 2: poem

Poem Project and Marginalia

A few friends and I are participating in a writing challenge. 7 lines per day, 7 days, 1 poem. As a way to focus the poems, we are all choosing an image from which we can cull a word-bank. I've decided to draw new words from the image every day of the challenge, as I learn to see it more clearly. This first day my word bank points to the recording of shapes, marks, images, but not the idea of the thing.



My image is by Matthew Barney, a drawing with vinyl, graphite, and petroleum jelly in a self-lubricating frame (I have seen this in person and I am still not sure what that means or does). The image is titled "TRANSEXUALIS incline (manual)." I love the use of caps, italics, and parenthesis in the title. Though I think it relates more to the installation it would help shape, I like thinking of the text itself and how such an economical title can still incorporate such particular facets of punctuation and (type setting?).

As I start this seven day project, I think I will use this space to record the residuals of the process here: the actual word banks, the bank itself with the words cut out, to see if it amounts to anything. (For the poem or other projects or my own amusement.)

words removed

day 1 word bank

Collaborative writing prompts allow for access to writing that writers scarcely allow. We share the initial writing, the moments before polishing. The raw sketch of it. I have always been interested in the idea that writers are so protective of and private about their process, whereas artists in other fields may not be. It is perfectly acceptable for an artist to include initial sketches as part of a greater exhibition (as Matthew Barney did for the show this drawing appears in, All in the Present Must Be Transformed). If a visual artist can exhibit this vulnerability, and appreciate that the spark of the idea is as noble as the polished and transformed things, can writers do the same? What about a reading that consists of all the various drafts of a piece (get on this, Kenneth Goldsmith), encompassing both minor changes and complete re-visions?

Maybe I ought to share all of it here--not just the residuals as I previously mentioned, but the initial text too, perhaps handwritten with words crossed out or erased, lines struck through and added in--an experiment to see what it can amount to.

So keep the day job...

Enjoyed this post on etsy about being creative in an everyday working environment. Summer Pierre maintains that you can have an everyday job and enjoy it too. I'm not sure what I'll do when I am done here at BGSU, but I know that as long as I can be creative, I will feel content. Though I am not sure if I am made for those 9-5 shifts...

to free up the hand

Today I wanted to hold words, slice them free from their origin, let them act as material. I have a new Moleskine with comic panels that I decided would be perfect for small daily "acts of liberation" (as the artist Nancy Spero describes appropriation in a segment of the Protest episode of Art:21). Collage has a unique immediacy and physicality that makes quick trysts of making so exhilarating. Using limited means such as paper scraps, photo copies, and only scotch tape for adhesion creates constraints that have the ability to surprise. Collage is gritty and oh so satisfying.

lapse-idasical

Next to my desk I keep a printout of Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto for Growth. Today I am especially feeling #11 Harvest ideas, #22 Make your own tools, #25 Don't clean your desk, and #42 Remember. I am trying to make something of my desk space.

I keep accumulating images, patterns, bits of paper--things to make my desk a happier place (so maybe more writing and making will happen here?). I've been admiring Lisa Congdon's new adventure: Collection a Day, 2010.



I especially enjoy samples like these that are drawn, perhaps imagined. Most of my imagined collections are written out: jars, vessels, glances, lists of things to do or build.

School starts in a few days, so I am spending time grounding myself, making simple goals in hopes that I can maintain them once I am busier. I want to return to my visual art--maybe just start with small collages here and there. I am convinced there may be a relationship between writing and walking, and I am going to try to do more of both this year. #33 Take field trips...

overdue

today, i picked apples and ate 4 donuts. i pasted paper clippings onto bristol board and let my hands remember making. i read bits of poems. i played at teacher. my mind is probably like this collage right now:



this collage is in progress. not sure what direction i plan to take it in yet. but i want to incorporate something hand drawn...perhaps a portrait of some sort?



finished this summer. just now posting it.

tomorrow is a day for writing, reading, churching, eating.

hello change.

Summer = love and puppies.

This is my 100th post.

New goodies just in from Cinematheque Press!

This is the fun package I arrived home to on my dining room table yesterday:



Please visit the CP website and check it out. These are lovely little books and you really should add them to your collection.

Thanks Nate!

i think of summer days again

today has been especially lovely. tonight i will sit on my porch, maybe have a popsicle. work on a collage. enjoy my ian. hold the moments.

An artist is someone who produces things that people don't need to have but that he--for some reason--thinks it would be a good idea to give them.

--Andy Warhol

MCBA Prize

I loved wandering through the Minnesota Center for Book Arts when I was living in Minneapolis. They've just published the results of a juried contest. The finalists are wonderful of course, but they've also posted all of the contestants entries. It's lovely to see the variation and the interesting approaches. Please check it out!

MCBA PRIZE

Ceramics by skinnylaminx

Mountain Garden sideplate6, originally uploaded by skinnylaminx.

I am in love with these ceramic plates. I love the use of line and the simple translation of life objects. I'd love a set of these!

self portrait in blue

There are a lot of things in the works right now, but most of them haven't made it out of my head. Leafing through textile printing books, drinking up drawings, taking it all in.

Thinking about installations.

I mentioned this post in a recent blog, but I wanted to show some great pictures. I think the way art is displayed can be almost as important as the content because it creates a context for it and helps the viewer enter the dialogue.




I really enjoy portraiture, especially some artists working in that medium today. Artists like ashleyg make a stale portrait fresh again. I have always been drawn to the human figure in my own work, and especially the face.

Custom Portrait, originally uploaded by ashleyg.

I would really like to get back into drawing the figure, but I much prefer drawing from life and my subjects are few (I think husbands are harder to draw than friends). The best thing about art school is having friends who understand that you need them to pose for you and that you'll do the same for them if they can just stay still long enough.

One of my favorite portraits was incised directly onto a copper plate and etched.



I like the original line drawing best, but I don't have a scan of that right now.

My goal is to draw more from life, and to draw frequently. I think the hardest part of drawing from life is allowing the people you are drawing to know they are drawing you. It insights vulnerability on both ends. Working from photos is easier (and I do enjoy it), but working from photos makes me feel like I am drawing ghosts.

poetry goodies

For your delectation, check out Cinamatheque Press the sexy brainchild of my friend, Nate Slawson. A couple titles hot off the press:




And while you're at it, check out the latest issue of Diode featuring some of Nate's poetry. My belief is any poet who quotes All The Real Girls has to be awesome.

See for yourself.

Nous Vous Collective

DSC01803, originally uploaded by analoguebooks.

One of my favorite groups of artists just had an installation show. I really love the way these are hung and seem to come alive in the installation.

Martiza Davila on Live From Memphis

My professor from undergrad is featured on Arts Memphis TV. She taught me a lot and encouraged me to pursue printmaking.