The journey

Just a little note on this project – Holly and I will be the first recipients and will produce a response or our engagement with Emily‘s work here and then send it along its way! Writers/Artists/Bloggers – check out the project and contact searchingtosee if interested or want to become a part of this photograph’s journey!

searchingtosee's avatarJourneyofaphotograph

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I have sent the photograph today. Here is a little bit about its past life:

It is an old photograph, which started life as a transparency, and I have had re-printed. I took this photograph over 10 years ago now, on an Olympus OM-4. The film was Fuji, but I forget now whether it was velvia or sensia, unfortunately. I took the picture as part of a larger project about in-between spaces. When I was trying to think of a photograph to send on this journey (it seemed an impossible task!), I spent a long time searching around in my brain until I came up with this one. I wanted to send something old which I could make new for the project. Something which already had some history, and personal meaning to me. It was taken whilst on a journey, and so it seemed fitting to use it as a…

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Friday Fictioneers – March 29, 2013

Lamps

The body as a field where many battles rage.  Strife of ideal fathering, strafed with spousal passion and demands.  The infantries advance – toward occupational worth – stealth sweeping the rewards.  Childhood plans of freedom and grandeur – the risk and adventure – hits from guerilla flanks.  The will to heroic power and injured survival.  Biology of age.  Maproom of surrender and negotiating borders.  Where the surge will be.  Today.  Rigorous advance of death.  Waging to forge something like a home, a country, an interdependent territory.  All of it leaving its marks.

It is time to sit down and write.  Time, as measured by flame.

It has to be burning.

N Filbert 2013

 

In the Night, Among the Lost

This spring I have the good fortune to be working with Jennifer Koe (of Quirk’n It – http://giddysap.wordpress.com/) on a photo/poem project. Over the next few weeks poems I have constructed that don’t quite fit the theme or plan of the project I’ll be posting on Spoondeep. This is one such poem.

Alias Harlequin's avatarSpoondeep

In the Night, Among the Lost


I sleep.
It fractures.
Visited, as if through a window,
stained and partitioned.
If I reach it will shatter.
There is only – no breathing – to wait.

.
I sleep,
they murmur.
I am alone.
As if dreams were enclosures
or blanketing veils,
wrapped to the earth.

.
I sleep –
to endure.
He comes, she comes, or it,
I am upbraided
by my past and failure.
The night is dark and full of stars
they say.

.
I sleep,
perchancing to dream,
a further remove and immersion
among what is lost and forbidden,
the distance between
you and me.

N Filbert 2013

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In praise of versatility

People seem to blog for very many reasons.  For all who follow or glance at The Daily Post blog with its tips and hints and prompts it is clear that some use these community-spaces for singular aspects of their lives (say to showcase or try out their poetry or paintings, photography or thoughts); others to engage in philosophical dialogues or take culture’s pulse; other’s as a form of public journaling, travel albums and so on.  And then there are those that swirl round a broad flux of themes and forms, artefacts and issues.  A versatile blog can be hard to come by, as, unless fueled by a collaborating group, most blogs sprout from individual minds and lives.  Yet we are socially-constructed beings.  A species made up out of context and interrelation.  Versatility is inherent in our adapting and survival.  All that to say that I am honored to have been chosen by maxadaland blog to receive the:

award.

Much thanks.  Sometimes I think we can feel pretty vorticed in our own imaginations…the paradigms and preformulating grids our experience passes through can start seeming quite idiosyncratic and even incommunicable.  Like a catch in an audio file, skipping and repeating such small fragments of possibility – like solipsistic feedback loops – and one can wonder whether interaction / intersubjectivity / reciprocation / communication is happening or not.  If we are hearing, being heard.

One thing I greatly appreciate for my life about having taken the leap of tending to and creating a blog is the daily (or almost) wander through the “Reader” feature of WordPress.  Artists, writers, commentators, philosophers, dramatists and encyclopedic representations of images, texts and audio from all around the world, out of every imaginable cognitive perspective drift past us, triggering synapses and volting neurons in places forgotten or buzzing dormant throughout our bodies.  It presents the wonderful possibility of contrast and integration, stimulae to creation and juxtapositions fundamental to our growth as organisms.  I thank you all for that.

Below, please find a few blogs I follow that in themselves seem to offer worlds of variety – of voices, of inputs and outputs, of interests and concerns – blogs I find that continuously spur new connections, unknown avenues, concepts or artefacts I otherwise would have perhaps never engaged.  Thank you to all – and it is taken for granted that we all know this worldwideweb is full of such spaces, ever only incorrect finger-splotches away.

for starters….

THANKS TO ALL!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RE4ce4mexrU

Set Screens

for Friday Fictioneers, March 15, 2013.

Copyright - Lora Mitchell

With age I come to see more clearly, through glaucoma and the cataracts.  Each layer beamed away, burning holes in cloudy veils.  Colors hardly remembered, bright edges that the world lends.  All that glitters can’t be told.  Even my hearing improves, as if long years of practice had taught me how to listen.  The paper of my skin whispers pages’ sound.  Dying’s process of deletion, dropping memories like scales.  Surgery after surgical procedure – removing the lens, installing; expanding tubes, constricting; bypassing and shunting – internal edits increasing my awareness that I’ve no idea how deep my set screens go.  I am yet to see this world, through the versions that I’ve filmed.

N Filbert 2013

Situating Language

“ultimately all the meaning of all words is derived from bodily experience”

-Bronislaw Malinowski-

(from The Problem of Meaning in Primitive Languages)

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RESPOND

kudos to my wonderful wife! great show

I certainly COULD NOT say (if “say” it is) better. Thank you Simon.

simonhlilly's avatarsimonhlilly

SUCH SLIDINGS

Such things (percepts, perceptions) often flow by us unnoticed. Our primary influences, the objects that create us into a subject….

It still happens regularly.
Listening now to an old song I knew then, the words, so familiar, intergrown as barbed wire into a tree, unpeel in clarity and reveal completely new words, new meanings. Of course that is what the lyrics are, clear, logical, making sense, making story. So why the mishearing for so long? We mis-hear more , much more than we mis-see. We misconceive more than each of these-(the bending of light to catch the whole within the goldfish bowl of brain).

Words never were single things but woven strings of shining diaphenous vapours. Put sound to lined squiggle, equations of broken down breath, equally spaced, segregated, punctuated, coralled, from left to right, or right to left, or down, or up. Do that and will ambiguity…

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