Self and reality. Symbol and language. Myth and image. Memory and consciousness.
Dream and unreality: locus communis.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

The Text Keeps Unfolding Itself

During the past series of weeks I have kept constructing various fractured phrases, collections of broken ideas loosely brought together by random themes, similar sounds, or vague word associations. Because the basic concept has no set repetitions, no set line count, the text keeps unfolding itself, adding new dimensions and shapes off the original twelve lines. What began in August has spread out over the last two months, almost on a habitual basis. A poem in a poem about a poem wrapped around a poem. Diamond facets mirroring each other, endlessly.

Apparently I work best in morning— when caught in mid-rush hour traffic. A vague subject exposes itself. Deconstructs the former day’s notions. The seemingly incoherent connections actually prove useful—since three or four projects have stalled out, I have been seeking new associations to build off old images.

A library of clay shards. Untranslatable cuneiform cylinders. Scripted ideograms. Possibilities.

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