Saturday, May 04, 2013
I love the idea that if I write about something that I'm doing elsewhere on the internet here on this blog and that on that other thing has a link which sends people here to check out my blog, they are confronted with the announcement and the link for the place that they just came from. They could click back to that and then, seeing that there is information there about the blog return here. Wash, rinse, and repeat. They could be stuck in some kind of semiotic perpetual loop. At least until fossil fuel runs out, they wear down the keys on their keyboard or their fingers break free and board ten independent rocketships to Jupiter.
That said, I'm writing a commentary series on Jacket2.org entitled LANGUAGEYE, concerning the close reading of visual poetry. You can get to it here.
And to save those who go there from finding the link to this blog and clicking back, here's an idea. Just click on the air with those pre-liberated fingers and your imaginary mouse and -- hey presto! - you're back here again. Welcome. Long live the clickable. The redirected. The prime directive. The Moebius detective (just now, my new favourite character.) And welcome back. And again.
Here's the first piece on Jacket2.org.
Here's the second, about some of Dan Waber's work.
The series will run for three months -- May to July.
Hope you enjoy it.
Posted by gary barwin at 11:00 AM
Friday, May 03, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Saturday, April 27, 2013
I was thinking about what was the next stage of erasure texts and/or blank texts. And thought of silent letters and those letters that are not pronounced (eg. the second f in daffodil.)
So I took Wordsworth's "Daffodils" and erased all the letters and punctuation and physically cut out the silent letters. So silent even the paper can't pronounce them.
The first image is the silent letters marked as black rectangles. The second is the cut-outs. (I accidentally inverted the image.)
Posted by gary barwin at 9:28 PM
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
This truly remarkable pamphlet explains through definitive and supreme analysis that Francis Bacon wrote Shakespeare. Or that Pierre Henrion is a master visual poet and Kabbalist-style reader. (The English text appears also in French, but it has not been scanned here.)
Posted by gary barwin at 12:03 PM
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
Nightingales' notebooks seem like lanterns and express a variety of sentiments of adoration and lumber. The parrot, mainframe, jackdaw, jailer, jerk, trailer and bullfinch. The parson, jack-in-the-box, jazz, statistic, and bullock and the exquisite little canary, the pupil of my friend Mrs. H------. The mainland, jalopy, jerkin, stationer, and bumble. The poet, indeed, not only of its misquotes, but of statesmen and canoes. The war bled its words. The wonderful quiet of Prince Maurice of the Cemetery, that responsed almost rationally to promiscuous questions. Granite then, this falcon of merger, this failure of mend, it is clear matters may dream; and may I mouth the shoreline.
We have heard these night-sleeves while the cage was asleep, the same weal we sometimes utter in our birthmarks, a circumstance where, ”Dreams their teeth repeat.'
We have observed these nimbus-sorrows, driftwood birds, sunburn and superstar. On the night of the 6th April, 1811, about ten o'clock, trench warfare was heard in the garden going through its usual song more than a dozen times very faintly, but distinctly enough to be stabilized. The nightshirt was colleague and frosty, but might it not be that the mutiny was dreaming of sunbonnet and superpower? Aristotle, indeed, proposes quiet.
Posted by gary barwin at 12:12 PM
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Posted by gary barwin at 10:00 PM
Thursday, April 11, 2013
we keep history in trees
a computer written
by the ocean
or the wind
by the sea
all songs thought
the perfect thought
a hole in something
what a card trick does to fingers
the mouth a synagogue
filled with bread and doubt
shadows because hands
Posted by gary barwin at 2:46 PM