Category: articles
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The Will
“Lisp’d to me the low and delicious word death, And again death, death, death, death . . .” – Walt Whitman, Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking Have heard sermons in the shape of waiting. Have wondered if God meant everything created as if creating always has a purpose. Have seen change in passing /witnessed…
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Self Intervariactif Portrait: Anamnesis Project
Very marked because of the hyper-medicalisation of our daily life that resulted from covid, and which made the individual story resonate with the global story. I looked at my own medical history through this interactive self-portrait. This self-portrait on canvas, between sculpture, installation and performance, is transformable and evolutionary. It can be installed to reveal…
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Totem
On the black bull with curved horns a pudgy little man sits cross-legged Control of passions, my father said. A girl and boy take turns somersaulting over bulls, placing hands on the back flipping between the horns. Playing with danger, my mom said. Another voice calls, Come here, says Selene, the bull-horned moon…
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The New Art of Book Making
I turn on the kettle for the cup of peppermint tea I make before every class. My laptop is on and mostly ready. While I wait for the water to boil I open up the zoom app, click join a meeting, then I type in the meeting ID that I wrote down on a post-it…
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Saucerie Sonnet
“No,” you stopped me. “Don’t wash the pan. Pour off the grease all but a loving spoonful, scrape the grizzly scraps loose, add herbs, a little wine or coconut milk, you’ll have a sauce, the remains will sing like a choir. “Don’t toss everything away, just the ballast, the dead stuff. Select notes will…
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Going Home
Neither of them knew the time. Rita could feel the heat of the afternoon sun gliding across the back of her neck and figured it must be getting late. She adjusted her hold on the orange cat, and turned away from the porch, towards Sal. “I got him,” she called. Her lips parted into the…
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Waiting for the Woe
Sitting in this sparse gray room with nothing to look at besides posters of the digestive tract, no doubt provided by drug companies as perks for doctor’s offices, I await a verdict that will determine my future. I’ve done nothing to prepare for good news. Why should I? I’m not one these people who will…
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St Modomnóc
A Byr a Thoddaid Dear sweet wee Saint Dominic went To Wales, to David’s See, and spent Some years in study, on his knees in prayer, And caring for the bees. Such care as bishops show their flocks Modomnóc showed his bees. He’d talk Words sweet as mead. It makes bees thrive full well,…
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At World’s Edge
On the edge of the world, an old man had built his house. This house, of old brick, dark wood, and clay tiles of burnt orange, was naught more than a lean-to, though it served his purposes well. In fact, it could hardly be called a lean-to, as it had nothing upon which to lean.…
