About

Telling the truth has saved me but I know there are several varieties of truth about the same act. This particular site was intended to tell the truth. All the other sites I manage are arguments of different kinds. They all play to their own music within me, turning fiction into poetry and poetry into fiction. Riddles native to the telling of renaissance poetry drew me early and have distilled with equally complex personal experience. The distance is always great between thought and words. To illustrate what this distance is for me,  trying not to think, but thinking,  I took a green pumpkin to the shop to remake it ceramically, but after preparing the skin and  molding it to the pumpkin the clay tissue  tore in several places. The final effect of the tears was more appealing, and after several layers of impasto and laminations fabricated with oxides and patterns implanted by tools, palm fronds it turned into not a pumpkin at all, but a bag tied at the top with a piece of clay string. On a second try it was an open bag of torn, weathered carpet, which in extension became a series of “bags”.  The broad strokes of the work have some kind of general image but no plan, like the best fiction writing on this site constructed in hearing the music, which came little by little in aural accidents and continual seeking of the ear,  or began with a visual. image.

This approach to life and art is experimental. They say memory is the memory of the last memory and not of the event. I did dissertation research by wandering in the UT-Austin tower stacks. One important book I took out three times before I understood its importance and found the part that mattered to me was Vanuccie Biringuaccio, Pyrotechnia, where the roots of mines were compared with the roots of trees and the golden age a material form of them. This document is unbelievably  now online in a PDF, although the translation I used was Richard Eden’s of 1540. Without this serendipity applied to hundreds of instances that inform these searches, always remembering the search term is most important, nothing good emerges. My search terms are supplied by continual reference to the first moment of my being when I was formed by Messiah.

This site is purposely unadvertised. It is sometimes like a journal. Perhaps these writings form themselves into a loosely assembled inquiry. Since I have just been reading Either/Or, liking the Preface and the very first part, this could be an assemblage of some ideas about faith and the self. Kierkegaard’s takes on Don Juan and Tragedy strike me as pedantic and dull, but he has a long to say about the poet in that first section before he abandons him. After a ceramic show, one piece each for critique, I said to her that when she is with me it shows others a part of myself that they otherwise cannot see. She replied, I can see it in your art.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s