Thursday, January 29, 2015

Silicon Beach 5











More walking-poems from the Silicon Beach series:

Silicon Beach 1
Silicon Beach 2
Silicon Beach 3
Silicon Beach 4

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Where is the Magic Hand?

"Things had endured this way for some time, so that it began to seem as though some permanent way of life had installed itself, a stability immune to the fluctuations of other eras: the pendulum that throughout eternity has swung successively toward joy and grief had been stilled by a magic hand. Thus for the first time it seemed possible to consider ways toward a more fruitful and harmonious manner of living, without the fear of an adverse fate's coming to reduce one's efforts to nothing so soon as undertaken. And yet it seemed to those living as though even this state had endured for a considerable length of time. No one had anything against it, and most reveled in the creative possibilities its freedom offered, yet to all it seemed as though a major development had been holding off for quite a while and that its effects were on the verge of being felt, if only the present could give a slight push into the haphazard field of potentiality that lay stretched all around like a meadow full of wild flowers whose delightful promise lies so apparent that all question of entry into it and enjoyment is suspended for the moment."
- from "The System"

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Silicon Beach 4

"He told me his book was called the Book of Sand, because neither the book nor the sand has any beginning or end."
from Jorge Luis Borges, The Book of Sand




















More walking-poems from the Silicon Beach series:

Silicon Beach 1
Silicon Beach 2
Silicon Beach 3





Thursday, January 15, 2015

Silicon Beach 3



















More walking-poems from the Silicon Beach series:

Silicon Beach 1
Silicon Beach 2








Thursday, January 08, 2015

Silicon Beach 2

What is a walking poem? For me, it's an affective maneuver while walking-writing-drawing along the sandy shore of Kailua Beach where I am presently living.

The poem comes to mind, word by word, as I traverse the beach with whatever implement (stick) I happen to find when I first arrive at the shore. The composition's rhythm is initially set by my continuous writing and walking, a rhythm that is further complicated by an intuitive and improvised choreography that includes taking snapshots with my iPhone in hopes the incoming waves do not wash the words away before I can capture them. Sometimes, at high tide, I move further away from the water so that I can maintain my creative momentum. Occasionally, I'll self-consciously reflect on this process by bringing words like momentum into the poem itself.

None of this is as easy as it sounds, especially as my mind is focused on maintaining a subtle coherence while I write the poem in my head and create a series of gestures (drawings) to coincide with my body's movement (projecting the writing's measure from within but also, simultaneously, without).

The final images are just a rudimentary recording of the mind in motion, the body following through on the parameters the conceptual performance has indicated as the constraints for the composition's procedure.





























More walking-poems from the Silicon Beach series:

Silicon Beach 1