February 7, 2015 § 1 Comment
here. say. press
judi goldberg & Paul Lewis
words, like hands, we count on them for everything
heresayer & pressman
Some would say I’ve always been here saying, but there is a particular and impressive clarity distilled through and refracted by typography and brought to bear through the stages of letterpress publication which celebrates everything word,
especially the letters,
And now, it is as an elder with voice and perspective–born of telling and listening to stories told by my elders and those who use story to find their way back to possibility and imagining–and a press
❈✳︎ the press ✴︎❊
the first social media, which gave us, the common man, access to the word and to deciphering it
solo tango ocean walker
leaning engineer, purchasing agent, builder & safety officer
chandler & price old style pilot
nolan proof press
lewis book press
more photos, here.
February 4, 2015 § 3 Comments
funny business this whittling oneself down to 200 words–narratively speaking; this in the scheme of a grant application needing to give picture of my worthiness,
or perhaps bent, or….?
Born and raised in urban eastern Canada, then rural USA I grew up surrounded by artists and scholars; farmers and students; languages and music; common sense and psychology; lively conversation and storytelling.
Graduating university 10 years after high school, I worked as a nurse with the mentally ill; it too a story rich world.
Always a writer I began in earnest in 2000 while recuperating from a brain tumor which robbed me, ironically, of hearing and balance.
my work at open mics and invited readings; co-founded PenHouseInk Press, and PenHouseInk Guild, which over a span of seven years published five literary anthologies and hosted 3 poetry walks. I was published in local and national literary magazines.
In 2010 I began my work with letterpress and handmade books.
I have handset and hand printed 25 limited edition mixed media, and genre, books; have been in 6 shows, 3 of them juried; and was granted a merit award by jurist Mary Austin. I edited eRrAtiCa 1, diverse works of & by the Iota Press Co-op, contributed to eRrAtiCa 2 and 3, and established here.say. press, a letterpress print studio, Guerneville CA. And now,
I’m off to Codex!
clocks in at 199 words.
February 2, 2015 § Leave a comment
preparing for codex. feb 8-11. craneway pavilion, richomond.
everything and everyone book.
January 7, 2015 § 2 Comments
book press made by here. say. press leaning engineer, Paul Lewis, from scraps around the homestead, well except for the ‘adjustable leveling jack’
sweet zeph holding down the christmas tree
December 29, 2014 § Leave a comment
Looking back (jan 2014) to look ahead; things (in no particular order) I would did will do:
1)two print poetry books; eve lott’s, freedom & lewis carroll’s, jabberwocky
2)gray matters, a multi-media (I think) book of poems and color palettes about gray and gray matter
3)not for me, a multi-media (possibly) book of poems about my buddy jc
4)mrs clark’s bread recipe, 8 X 8 poem/broadside/poster/godknowswhat for erratica 3
5)finish the crow posters, (including setting text of one of don’s dying poems)
6)edit house and home poems
SO, perfectly wow! is, not only did I (in no particular order) accomplish much of what I set out to do ❇︎and more❋ but that it hardly looks like what I thought it would, which is of course, (as I say often) the art and heart of it, or the earth and hearth of it, and here I go
into the morphs which are next year’s things (I think) I might (in no particular order) do which speaks directly to my trajectory and how what I do is mostly reflection of, and on, the goings along
so next year’s buzzword/k/s are:
FACE; BEARING/S; FOOTING;
and of course a Print Poetry or two is in the works as well.
December 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
Listening to the rain, Clara brushed the day’s work from her hair. She
surveyed the house again, looking for anything left undone. Baxter,
the old spaniel trailed her, restive.
Dressed with measure.
Heated a brandy.
“Time to go now,” she said, turning off lights.
By midnight the river was in the parlor.