This hot-potato-pass-it-on-pay-it-forward-style awarding-via-nomination generosity at wordpress feels good.  I like the way it expands our little readership coteries and introduces each of us stumbling on others of us who have stumbled upon others of us to one another…

Most kindly and recently Sixpuns nominate-awarded me for the Versatile Blogger Award – a valuable title I indeed hope is true of my brain and work at least from time to time…this one looks like this:

The rules of this one are – * thank the person who nominated you / *include a link to their blog as common courtesy (that’s a quote) / *pick 15 other bloggers who are excellent that you’ve recently discovered or read devotedly / *and tell the person who nominated you 7 things about yourself.  I’ve done 3 out of 4, here are my 15 nominees for excellence and versatility in blogging:

(in no particular order, but selected for versatility and excellence)

Sam of the Ten Thousand Things (the name is indicative)

Unwanted Advice

Severn Spoon.com

Literary Man (again)

Adventures in American Writing

the language we speak


Brainsnorts inc


Very Small Kitchen

Literature Salon


Unbound Boxes Limping Gods


The Coevas

Thank you all for your variety of work and interests and prompting them forward in us!

Zygoptera: Friday Fictioneers

I struggled with this week’s prompt-picture…then struggled with keeping it to 100 words…then changed my form altogether

For all unfamiliar – join up! – “Friday Fictioneers” is a terrific place to read others and exercise one’s own languaging!

damsel fly


(zygo= joined or pairing; ptera= wings)


I have read of the damselfly

they of paired or joined wings

that lie paralleled and close

in their similarities

unlike others

of a horizontal differencing


it seems we each begin

as only one

lop-sided and clumsy

but eager to fly

flapping, leaping

slipping, falling,

we collide


finding another

and learning to lean

an economy of movement


so we huddle

and shelter

surrounded in pair


we of the joining wings

merging and taking to flight


if only for moments

N Filbert 2012

Writing: the Subjects

Writing: the Subjects

A lot can be read about what it takes, means, requires, or qualifies a person as a writer.

From “someone who inscribes a text,” (akin to walking or speaking), to publication and critical acclaim (akin to fame and riches).

As I see it

it must begin with a facility with language.  Any language.  An awareness of words and their implications.  The intention to utter.

Uttering tends to search a subject, (what words are “about” is as various as the universe) and a style or voice (how it will inscribe).

From there it’s simply performance: arranging or placing the selected words in a medium with a measure of physicality, sense-ability, somewhere capable of being perceived.

As far as I can think it, when these few elements are satisfied what we are engaging is “writing” as a product of “writer.”

He chooses a form of English he has acquired through hunting and gathering, a language institutionalized and socially invested in him with measures both beyond and within his control.

He searches a subject to say.  Already subjective (as he is the one searching with what language he has or is able to acquire or create) his utterance will always contain an “I” – both shaped and formed by his responses and politically constructed by his social milieu.  In other words, there are always more than one “subject” in every utterance.  At base, at least three: the language, the user, the construction and arrangement.

He’s already overwhelmed with the largeness of the simple subjects inescapable to human languaging, and he’d thought to write about rocks (geology) or time (epistemology); romance (psychology) or events (history; ontology).

Subject-fields are vast, you understand.

Having sought to describe an object (desk or stone) in space (again scientific theories / epistemology) each signal latent in language subjectivized: using language creates subjects, no objects remain but are subjectively engaged.  Language is an invisible bridging, a liminal skin, connective absorbent tissue, subjectively creating subjects-in-relation.

This, apparently, its object.

Thus uttered…a story.

N Filbert 2012


Red Spark

“it is necessary to aspire to elevate spontaneity to consciousness”

-V.I. Lenin-

Red Spark


Asking yourself the question, what was it I intended to do?  Conceiving balance, proportion, invention, response.  Went about it like this: first, then second, then third, revise.  The choosing keeps changing each thing.  Yet you’re insisting on it.

You had started to bleed, just there, not bothering to stanch it.  Caught chunk of knuckle, leaving a fleshy gaping to pool.  Dab, pool, dab, pool.  Redundancy of wounds.  They had said let it flow to your paper.  Gives you a feel for the work.  Of getting your life out.  Opening a vein.

It’s not really all that.  There’s no pure letting the inside out.  It’s traveled a billion conduits, picked up and fought off zillions of miniscule aids and oppositions.  Polluted, infused.  You may be a “type,” but whatever your genre, its inextricably bound to all your surround.  In-filtrated, even as you are infecting.

The world is viral, and you – parasitic.

Whatever you’re intending – this is the outcome.

This is known by various names: “life-process,” “being,” “creativity,” just to name a few.  Some prefer “system” or “symbiotic machine.”  We’re handling synonyms and points-of-view.  The “intentions.”

All to mention your moves, as your choice and selection, as made in (by/with) the world.  Learning the language(s).  What is foreign in-heres.  You in-hear.  There are echoes.  Tracings in the blood.  You see it in typescript like this, a trans-literation, a bastard cross-current: sobytiinyi (as “evental”) brain placing “Soviet,” so be it, so-bytie, so- so close to co- (i.e. a “withness”) bytie (“existence or being”) implying that any event, that is, what happens, is always, always only conjunctive, collision, with-someone or something, you and other.

There’s Russian in your blood, after all, dripping off the thumb, some epigenetic repercussions of unknowing, the certainty of solitude failing.

Or, without which not.

And so on, as your intuition announces itself through inscription, a writing impossible alone – having need of some tools and an alphabet and ages of learning and co-being that uni-cates, some understood calling and shared, might occur.  What is – “to share.”

In other words, we all have a share in the stock, but no share counts for much without value in the stock, as it is shared.

I.e. your intention.  Sharing your share in the co-event (experience) of being (existence)…ancient mingling of bloods, as if there were origins to get to.

“Original Reproductions” then, co-mpliments of you.

Aimed from some desire toward co-mpletion; that perhaps this stock of shares shared increasingly might expand the value of each.  A Soviet dream.  And so be it.

So be us.  Only insofar as you provide your share in part with ours.  Our ares.  Ars.

Suggesting direction for the arts as an arc, shaping production of individual shares in the whole or evolving, an assemblage of expression, incremental co-habitus, -ation, drive or desire for some rhapsodic (raph-a seam; raphtein-to stitch; oide-song) symphony (a sounding together), the outmoded truism of “medley.”

The intent was to lift up in part.  Your part or your share, instrumental voice toward the theme you’re discovering to be in the join.

Our arts as the arc forming the theater…And why we urge you sing out –

so be it