They woke me up at the crack of dawn.
Looked out my window. Here’s what I (heard and) saw …
On the Wires now live at qarrtsiluni in the ‘Animals in the City’ issue.
~
It was early. It was loud. It was the beginning of June and I’d just returned from a trip abroad. I’d spent a full month in Read the rest of this entry »
Another trip down memory lane; another collaboration with Dorothee Lang. ‘POP UP poptagon’ went live in Locus Novus on September 22nd a few years back. The day/month strikes me as significant in more ways than one: My long-time animal companion died on September 22nd this year. The passing was, and still is, sad. The project, however, was floral and fun: “a collaborative exploration of the pop culture lexicon as it pertains to four overlapping processes that set and keep pop culture in motion: distribution, commodification, (re)production, and consumption”.
Thank goodness for Dorothee’s blog notes. They contain email excerpts that remind me of how the project began. She wrote:
it started with some images of backyard flowers sent back and forth as mail additions. then came some floored peonies. and a tossed thought in a mail:
“here, a rain front washed through. the peonies are floored. i just was outside, trying to perk them up a bit. picture to follow.
we could start to work on a flower-collaboration ;-)”
– d.
For the full blog post, and my response to her suggestion, go here.
Locus Novus features projects that synthesize text, image, motion, and sound.
My memory of Hévíz—a Hungarian spa town—is a memory of sensation. My time there is sacred. It’s not a particularly “exciting” time; it’s a rejuvenating contemplative retreat more than anything.For close to a month, my routine consists of eating, walking, resting, sleeping, soaking in mineral hot springs, and receiving wellness treatments (massages, mud packs, etc.). For me, it is bliss. It’s the closest to I get to God.
On more than one occasion I’ve gone there to disconnect from life-as-I-know-it where I live; to disconnect from computers; phones; responsibilities. Solitude is available in large quantities. I slow down. I stop thinking. And when I stop thinking, I begin to sense life in and around me in ways I tend to overlook during the rest of the year. What I find through disconnection is a reconnection with the language of my senses—and nature.
For example …
From my window each morning
I hear and see:
.
.
From the cobblestone streets
I watch and listen:
.
.
From the lake—a thermal lake—
I feel my skin enveloped in heat and liquid nutrition:
.
.
I smell
sweetness in the earth; air; trees:
.
.
Well … there’s earth, air, and trees in that video, but you can’t really smell them.
Perhaps one year I’ll capture the scent and share it here …
This one is all about blog-hopping. Funny how it goes…
It began with threephotos I’d posted over at my image gallery VisuaLiving. I later decided to feature them together in a blog post here at Living ?s. I snapped the photos on a walk I’d taken while preoccupied with planning a trip and escaping. At some point, I returned to the present and realized the beauty I was missing while daydreaming.
Meantime, Dorothee Lang was in the midst of editing a BluePrintReview issue on the topic of ‘challenge’. She’d stumbled across my post containing my images and musings. Apparently, the post fit well with her theme, so she published it as an issue preview in the literary and visual art journal’s blogzine. The feature highlights my post at Living ?s, and links to the photos at VisuaLiving. From blog to blog to blog. Dizzying.
Some folks are penny wishers, others are star wishers.
If you prefer stars, here’s a chalk star to wish upon …
~
This is a re-post from a couple of years ago. Thought I’d revisit it now–
at a time of year devoted to intentions, resolutions, success plans. Sometimes, perhaps, it’s better to drop the effort and hope for something grand …
a sunny august moment unfolded like this, if I recall it correctly …
~
head, spinning fast spinning right up down left i’m
meandering home from the station, ideas and fantasies dreams and ambitions of elsewhere of there of
away far away, other lands other times other spaces back then wonder when but not now and not here and not present old breath vision time and sensation
away, until
2 blinks they open, my eyes so wide open i see that it’s me
in my fresh in my nation my city
so fragrant this moment
A larger version of the asemic images appear in life as a journey > the direct link is here.
~
The term ‘asemic’ is variously described as “post-literate”, “nonsensical”, “non-symbolic”. Like abstract art, asemic work promises viewers the opportunity to generate personal meanings from their own cultural and linguistic standpoints rather than having meanings imposed by writers and artists.
In keeping with the spirit of asemics, I won’t tell you the origin of the images. I certainly won’t reveal that the images began as photographs I took inside the bathing complex that sits at atop the mineral-rich Hungarian Lake Hévíz–the largest thermal lake for swimming in Europe; the second largest in the world.
Something else I won’t reveal is the video below; that water in motion–a MicroMoment I captured on camera while standing inside the Hévíz Complex after a long afternoon of soaking:
Other things I promise to keep secret are the symbolic meanings in the title of the project. I won’t tell you the nonsensical three-part name carries the following interpretive content:
~
oenisplx = the letters of the word ‘explosion’
[explosion of energy that leads to the elements]
igrnimeeg = the letters of the word ’emerging’
[life emerging, colors spilling into one another]
spnimirt = the letters of the word ‘imprints’
[dried out world, only imprints remaining]
A burgeoning project on flowers and culture splits in two…
One half morphs into POP UP Poptagon–a collaboration with Dorothee Lang, published in Locus Novus last year. The other half starts with a query from Dorothee, who mails from Germany to my office in Vancouver.
“Shall we write some poems now?” she asks.
Words are crafted, then stored in a file. I travel to Calgary–work with designer Lawrence Eisler on illustrations to accompany the text. Meantime, back in Germany, Dorothee is curious about literary hypertext–she’s engaged in consultations with U.S. hypertext author Susan Gibb.
I eventually leave Calgary; return to Vancouver with a series of illustrated poems in hand. Dorothee–stoked about what she’s learned from Susan–writes, “Want to turn these poems into hypertext?”
“Why not?” I write back.
We craft more illustrations and poems, and, inevitably it’s more complex than that, but at the end of the day, here it is:
Note: He’s my brother, not my husband, if you’re wondering who Lawrence Eisler is.
~
Wheelhouse Magazine is a publication of the Wheelhouse Arts Collective: “a collection of wayward artists, many of whom are progressive activists, labor unionists, and dilettantes, stuck inside the cramped confines of a seafaring vessel’s main cabin. Luckily…We know where we’re going: towards land, specifically a land where art is defetishized (not appreciated but wrestled with) and politics is a civic duty, where the New Yorker is not the arbiter of literary history (and no, it’s not necessarily Canada). We come from New York, Philadelphia, the Midwest, and abroad. We cling together in cyberspace and are bounded by the covers of our books.”
Two photos of Hévíz, Hungary are featured in the September issue of elimae. I took the photos of the lake in broad daylight back in May–the water was warm; centigrade, about 33 degrees.
In case you’re wondering, the correct pronunciation ofelimae is el–ee-may. It stands for ‘electronic literary magazine’. It’s been around since 1996, features creative writing and occasional images, boasts an elegant minimalist design, and is currently published under the joint editorship of Cooper Renner and Kim Chinquee in the U.S.
There’s room for more, and it doesn’t matter where you live.
The point of the party is to share what is (or isn’t) growing in April near you.
For directions, and to see who’s arrived, follow this link.
Hope to see you soon!
Karyn
April is over and submissions are closed.
To all who stopped by to view and/or share, thank-you!
The April Garden Party photos are preserved. Have a look.
Look forward to seeing what’s growing (or isn’t) near you!
April is over and submissions are closed.
To all who stopped by to view and/or share, thank-you!
Scroll down to see the April photos. They’re preserved.
Words: Father of the Suicide [David Jordan, USA]
+ Image: Reflect/Absorb [Karyn Eisler, Canada]
+ Matchmaker: Editor of BluePrintReview [Dorothee Lang, Germany]
= THIS
How does the editor, Dorothee Lang, explain this particular coupling?
“the essay is about a painful subject: teenage suicide … and your water image has just the right mood: sadness, depth, a closing focus, things and thoughts underneath the surface”
I took this photo on the same day, from the same bridge, at the same time, save a moment or two, as the The Bow — an image that also appears in Issue 23, paired with Jennifer Jackson Whitley’s words on (addict)ion.
These word/image couplings provide a study in contrasts:
(addict)ion and suicide → two tales of discomfort;
and,
two photographs taken in Banff, Alberta, on a day when the mood was so different. It was such a happy day for my family and I; my mother’s birthday, my father and brother in attendance; all of us together, laughing, reminiscing, making moments of joy, memories of comfort …
The Bow River, a view from the bridge, a blue afternoon in Banff, Alberta. Moss topped rocks promise rapid descent into the depths of the milky water. Inviting. Dangerous. Delicious. Repellent. These are the impressions I remember.
My photo of The Bow appears in BluePrintReview, where founding editor Dorothee Lang seeks “unexpected connections between texts and images from unrelated places.”
In Issue 23: (dis)comfort zones, she couples the photo with a Georgian author’s words on (addict)ion — Jennifer Jackson Whitley’s tale of desire and cautionary, yet reckless, compulsion.
NewPages.com describes BluePrintReview as “an online journal constructed to ease the complex and beautiful convergence of language and art and all the possibilities this entails.”