Posts Tagged ‘art’
As Timothy Green puts it, “Poetry is everywhere… It happens by accident all the time.” The idea behind his Found Poetry Project is to see what happens when you look for those accidents. Maybe a note on your power bill sounds like a haiku, or a message your drunk friend left sounds like free association. [...]
If you think a poet might be in it for the love of their own voice, you might be right. Which borrowed “causes” do you find the most offensive for bad writers, politicians, and other public figures to take up?
Have you ever had a moment you wanted to hold on to, keep feeling longer than it could last? What have you tried to do to sustain it?
The text for this installment is taken from a poem in a series I am writing about (or from) pets. What do you think about the relationship between creation and death? Does an awareness of death drive artists to create more urgent, more honest work?
You might already read Joey Comeau and Emily Horne’s webcomic, A Softer World. This is my little tribute to their work. Did you ever use a darkroom to develop photos? If I could wave a wand I might bring darkrooms back.
Something that Will Never Last
by Secret Vespers on December 20, 2008 at 11:53 amYesterday I got rid of all my old photos, my old letters and emails, my old trinkets and souvenirs. Isn’t all nostalgia false? As I scrubbed, I examined these things, things for years I had saved like treasure. I am glad I remember the truth. These were not honest records, let alone mature or expansive [...]
The first series are pictures of me looking for this camera—on the table where I had left it for just a moment, on the other chairs, underneath, and apparently into the sky, as if it could have leapt onto the awning of the café or been stolen by a pigeon. These photos were taken from [...]
I want to meet you without ever planning to meet, sit beside you on the subway the very moment you decide, the toymaker convention being in town, you must grab a stranger and crash it. This is a wrong stop for both of us, a place we’ve never been. It is no place to remain [...]
Have you ever felt like nothing was allowed to be new or fresh or wonderful? Like any attempt at sincerity or originality is seen through the post-modern glasses of irony, reference, and so on?


