dbqp: visualizing poetics: April 2011

The Text Festival Almost Begins

The Text Festival hasn't quite started yet, but it is just about to. Tonight, a few of the poets and artists, about 15, who are already in town met at the Ox in Manchester to talk about poetry, the Text Festival, and anything else. We had a great meal, a few bottles of Chilean wine, and lots of fun.

In attendance were Tony Trehy himself (the mastermind of the Text Festival) and his wife Sue Collins, Christian Bök, derek beaulieu, Márton Koppány, Phil Davenport, Steve Giasson and his fiancé Marc, Alexander Jorgensen and Irena (whose last name I didn't get), a person who's name has totally slipped my mind, the great Liz Collini, Nancy Huth and her husband, me.

We are ready for the next few days of excitement.

Apr

Typewrought

Geof Huth, "EIN POEME" (27 April 2011)

John F Kennedy International Airport, Terminal 8, Gate 4

Today, Phil Davenport, an almost twin of mine (bald men are considered identical) confirmed that he'd like me to send him a typewriter poem for an exhibition at the Transport Museum in Bury, England, this week, so, before I left this morning on a drive to JFK for a flight to England, I looked through my files and picked out three typewriter poems to send him, but before I scanned them I decided to c

Apr

A Text Festival Itinerary for 2011 (with a Brief Glance at 2009)

{with updated information}

Tomorrow, I leave for the Text Festival in Bury, England (and "Bury" is pronounced "berry," which seems right to some, but I've noticed that North Americans always guess it's pronounced "boory"). I have less of a role in this festival than 2009's but much more than in 2007's, and I have plenty to do while there. Here's what my schedule looks like at the moment:

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

(Eastern Standard Time)

12:00 n Drive to John F.

Apr

Working

It's not necessary for things to be right side up for them to make sense. Sometimes the scene, the totality, is what matters, not the particulars.

To create certain visual poems, I move to the third floor, to my office, my studio, my library, complete with dictionary stand and over 1,000 dictionaries. To my personal floor and workspace that comes with a bathroom and a bed if I want it. But what I use most is the chaos of the place.

Apr

What Comes in through Your Eye Leaves by Your Teeth

Yesterday, it arrived, and I've already removed it from my house for framing, but I've done yet another extravagant act in recognition of the value of poetry in a life, maybe only mine, but that's the one I have to work with.

As soon as derek beaulieu's massive, and I might even say historic, Letraset poem, "Prose of the Trans-Canada," was released by BookThug, I ordered a copy, even though the cost was steep.

Apr

The Eyes Have It

It is difficult to account for imagination. Hard word has to be part of it. Raw determination itself. But something must be innate as well. Otherwise, how can we explain huge differences among the members of a single family. Finally, luck has something to do with it. Some innate talents are never born, I'd assume, because those people never stumble onto enough opportunities to grow that skill.

Apr

The Performance of Poetry

Holiday Inn, Room 204, Helena, Montana

I'm in the middle of my first of three trips I'll take over the course of three consecutive weeks. First, there is this trip to Montana (with an unexpected layover in Salt Lake City yesterday) to give a workshop on managing electronic records. Next week is the Text Festival, one of the biggest events in my year.

Apr

He Said it Was Min

Delta Flight 95, JFK to SLC

The other day, on Saturday, something unprecedented happened at dbqp headquarters in Schenectady, New York*: Someone stopped by to pick up a copy of a dbqp publication (derek beaulieu's "db"). Since dbqp's birth as a micropress in Horseheads, New York,† no-one had visited the headquarters of the institution for the express purpose of picking up publications. Some had come by and been plied with publications, but that might have been entirely against their will.

Apr

Staring into Evening

I am given over to writing, which reduces my ability to write. Every paradox is two things at once, neither orthodox. If I thought poetry was writing, I would not sing or draw or swim through the words. Give it up if you think the game of language can be won. We love text because it is unnatural, a pox to lay waste a civilization, an infection burrowing through us.

Apr

Content Not in Evidence

In a couple of weeks, I'll be in Bury, England, for the Text Festival, masterminded by Tony Trehy. As part of that festival, I was responsible for providing two sets of artworks for exhibition to the Bury Art Gallery: 100 calligraphic visual poems on cards and a single electronic file that representing a modern tradestamp.

dbqp: visualizing poetics

visual poetry, the textual imagination, and personal experience