came to us in a bubble

January 29, 2011 § Leave a comment

known peril

January 29, 2011 § Leave a comment

been typesetting the last days away, coming down the stretch, only 3 more pages, the colophon, title page and cover, will finish the typesetting this week, maybe even the printing, the assembly a whole other order and ordering, thinking that each of the four, will be different by design,..well actually I haven’t figured out for sure the ins&outs of this volume yet, I’m thinking four bound with screws, each different and two more that will be bound with something like the shoelace which was the original idea and with a different set of pages, not that the words will be different but the what it’s printed on will be of a different order, to wit the first four will be printed on newsprint, recycled maps, and the others may include transparencies, and/or some opaque papers

remembering patience and it’s only tedious and too slow if your ones my mind and more importantly my heart is elsewhere and that’s true of anything, even the opera, and sex,

and printing, 2 more sheets (= 4 pages) two of which used color other than black or as well as black, different colors mind you, set and cleaned the press twice, mixed colors (from scratch, came out perfectly if I do say so) and setting the form was its own exercise in arithmetic and spatial relations all of which I figured out on my own, thanks to a refresher session on typographic measure, picas and points and ems and ens and quads and slugs and leading and brass and coppers and multiples and fractions therein and of

and painting paper and fashioning book covers, (the screws have come, they’re perfect!)

and all things in their own time, being weaned and learning from my mistakes, like when I measured wide because I hadn’t accounted for the position of the roller in relation to the bed which changes when you take the pin out so you can do the color banding,

and casting and recasting excellence in the context of to be human is divine and if you want the perfect performance buy the damned cd…I often see the error as a kind of ambrosia…as an offering, as possibility…as opening another door of perception, knowing just the same with a smile, that from one typesetter to another, from one fine printer to another notso fine, looking through the book one of the first things that will be commented on is the “k” on page 3, that’s not joanna! it will be said with a sense of hauteur, as if weren’t they so smart, but with my own sense of hauteur and aren’t I so smart, I wonder who will get the upside down “a” on page 7, the point of course being it’s all part of a whole, all in support of the message, ah marshall…even coming back as in retrograde all the way back to words that are handset one letter at a time, the medium was/is still the message…

and somehow, somewhere along the way, the title changed from NUANCE, to KNOWN PERIL

meanwhile I’m already onto the next piece which came to me in a whole new clamor before its time, but there was nothing to do except run with it, so I am and imagining it on a grander scale…by which I only mean bigger, a whole new risk

and there are pieces of paper, the ubiquitous ephemera of a printshop if you will, stuck everywhere, and all is well…

3 days in january 2003

January 24, 2011 § Leave a comment

January 29 tithes&tethers
like bach or even handel–I’m thinking of his keyboard suites–and scarlatti & cats–especially sir woodrow of the moment–the damnblessed fire demands possesses that same perfectly relentless perfectly insistent though not exacting need for attending-to worship prayer mindfulness and like cats and other intimacies you reap in return a compound portion of your tithe

and like scarlatti or bach or handel but not so much paganini the day-in dayout upstairs-downstairs woodstacking ash-emptying stoking rearranging hotter not so hot wind down the chimney smoke in the house is like any fine intimacy or good wine a damn nuisance

January 30
we got yesterday to the heart of it…to why he as a new psychiatricnurse and I are meeting…and though it came up last time I’d missed its import its moment until the drive home…he’d said I don’t know what we do if we don’t give medicine…and that’s it…someone new to our field the business-craft-art of nursing whatever ilk whatever brand gets sidetracked by the tasks and misses the nub of it which as my psychiatric nursing instructor said lo those almost thirty years ago is love; what we give patients he’d said is not medicine but love…

January 31
tithe&tethers part2
funny how in that context love has become a dirty word as if patronizing demeaning infantalizing or unprofessional godloveus, ah the cultural ins&outs of not so much words but language so of course I changed it not even to compassion but to the not so overburdened person-to-person (obvious but stated just the same for the not so obvious component) contact because of course and obviously all illness but especially mental malady is an inter personal dis ease and what we offer is our person as a substrate as a platform and the tithe that’s compounded is…liberty&justice for all



January 23, 2011 § Leave a comment

it was a sorry slide from the plum you
plopped in my mouth to awake in bed

brass screws

January 23, 2011 § 2 Comments

I ordered brass post binding screws

hard as it was to come up with, or to say something as simple as, I write poetry, it is at this juncture impossible to say what I’m writing–I wonder why I would say that–the shape of a poem is limitless by now, by which I mean poetry takes many shapes and yet I wouldn’t say I’m exactly writing poetry which is to say the writing is not poetry to my ears, though it is evocative rather than prosaic, but the music if there is any is cacophonic, and it is not prose in any sense of the word though there are words and even sentences

he said some time ago, maybe the book is a poem, and that’s close, or closer if you, or I as the case is need to use words that are easier, or at the very least, familiar, and earned

that said, I can finally see why they, or we as the case is, have come to call it, if it needs to be called, book art, as hackneyed as it is, it is accurate, and it is the heart of the matter, it is the exploration of an idea, or ideas within the space of something we know to call a book, at least at this point my books still look like books straight up, and down which finally gets me to the question–rather like the age old question what makes a poem a poem–what is a book, what makes a book a book, which of course is in part what I’m exploring–but it doesn’t go without saying,

it has to start with a beginning and an end, by which I mean: it has, to start with, a beginning and an end, and it takes place through space, it is visual, there is a visual field, and it is a visual experience, you can hold it touch it and fondle it, it is tactile, you can take it to bed with you, you can read it, ohmygod (I think over time this may be up for discussion); it pushes and pulls, shows&tells

there is a narrative–my books (all two of them) if you will, have narrative, a binding force, ha which gets me back to, I ordered brass post binding screws, because even if you can’t tell a book by its cover, like it or not, a cover is integral and must be a credible part of the risk–they are an exploration an idea, that may have started with a feeling for sure, but the truth is not about the feeling (as it might be in a poem, where again it is not the facts that are true but the feeling they support, for godsake), the truth is in the execution of the idea that is supports

andbut they may be a poem, or not or have words or not, or pictures or not and not even look like a book

ok smartypants, do you know what makes something a book?

the fire with good editing waxes now, the moon, in the bluing morning’s sky wanes as does the fog, and

I’m abook, all the world’s abook, book em judigo

this to say about that

January 22, 2011 § 2 Comments

birthdays have come and gone, some remembered, some even hailed others the way of the days gone busy, try as I might whelmed by too many pages, pages of a book hard to keep together in their coming together as kittens, or puppies frantic with enthusiasm, try as I might to leave with everything I came with by way of notes and mock ups I have so far not been able to, it’s unsettling, and humbling, and childlike or perhaps just godhelpme kittenish or impulsive which brings to mind

as if I were, or maybe thoughtless or  brash or off on a tangent I’m saying in what otherwise might be lighthearted conversation the oddest things and then wondering why I would have possibly even said it, like talking about having gone to the funeral of a patient’s daughter, and isn’t that a whole kettle of blackened fish of its own, only to realize innocently enough, that was what came up in the course of the conversation for me, which isn’t to say folks aren’t left wondering what the hell made me say that in the course of an otherwise lighthearted conversation,

speaking of out of turn, we have a rose budding for crying loud and the pear tree and the camelias are in fullbloom the chickadees are at the feeder and the yute are running around in sleeveless tops and shorts

speaking of talking about we’re talking about, did you know, no matter who the hell is or isn’t paying that most hospitals can’t afford to give you the kind of care you would expect to get at even the best ones? And do you know why? If you don’t you should find out, and even more do something about it

and today, already the 22nd, at Quicksliver Mine Co. is the opening of Bakers Dozen 2011, Art Words, the art of 13 Bay Area Artists, artist reception 4—6 pm, can’t wait.


January 17, 2011 § Leave a comment

whale watching season is upon us, did my 1st docent tour, it was one of those glorious winter clear crisp no fog see for miles days that after so many gray days so many gray days reminds one of horizons and sun light, refurnishes one with hope and willingness

and then there was coming up over the hill just past goat rock and looking out over the ocean

and then there were the whales, a pod of humpbacks out there and young grays closer in, perhaps one or two or three who have become resident rather than stragglers heading with some sort of purpose southerly, or heading north ahead of the gang as the adolescents have a wont to do

and the sea lion under the water, the light was shining through the curling wave just right you could see him surfing down the line

we are a motley bunch, the docents, not so much of an age as you might think, held together by a certain cast of spirit and awe

it is the awe that repopulates resets stokes as it were the passion ignites in me that willingness that wont to set out

and of course people asked have you seen any and when are they coming but, they also asked do they travel in groups and when are they sexually active and are they going north or south and there was laughter and cavorting and talking to strangers and children perilously close to the edge

not surprisingly I’m reading thousand mile song; david rothenberg, and for the moment there is talk about music in general and I came across george crumb talking about bravura, it sticks with me as that quality of courage and recklessness which adds up to a kind of fearlessness in the moment allowing one particular virtuosity–it is the bravura, that I am missing in ‘nuance’ as it sits, not so much the excellence but just that soupcon of passionandrisk one word otherwise known as heart that will take it over the top, you know,

how funny what I mean of course is, it is the bravura that I am missing

and at the same time that is really not true, it’s just scary–now that’s a chickenshit word if you ever heard one, when really I mean chilling or shuddery or awesome, yes there it is–it is awesome and whelming being on that precipice smart enough to know better trying something new that either will or won’t work and as george crumb might say falling flat on your face

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