Over-Octave Leaps, A Piano Recording, and a Haiku.

k here I give you

1. an account of the day thus far in haiku. I wouldn't say it makes very much sense at all, to be honest. Liberal poetic licence. 
2. a recording of my mental and anatomical thrashings that are really an attempt to articulate the importance of the webbing between your thumb and index finger (the thenar space?).

Handstretch the morning

to break in the rain*:

walk to get

toothpaste, and air. 

*except, on closer inspection of the view out of the window, I don't think I'll be going out in that. My boat isn't big enough. 

Read Me Your Favourite Line {A Musical Interlude}

This is for looking at and hearing while I get myself together for an offering to the PoetryJam. With the lashings of rain outside, it suits the day. 


 

Bigger, Better, Faster, Forever

It's been a slow incline, but I'm really sparking off the visual, pictures and textures colliding around in my head rather than words or punctuation. 

The picture I'm including with this post is from The Architecture of Analogy. It's more of a discourse than a website. I can't really explain it in full sentences so we'll use tags: PhD, architecture, analogy, sketches, mixed media, Aldo Rossi. For some reason it reminds me of Gormenghast. 

It articulates the current feeling that my work is getting larger, bolder. It's no accident that some people I know have me in their phones as 'Andy Warhol' rather than 'Jessica Maybury.' I have huge plans for the future, works to do that are on a scale I could never have imagined a few years ago - but, however, I need assistants, and thank God, I have them. 

Of course there is always need for expansion. 

I'm moving off the page and slipping onto walls, street corners, bus stops. 

All of that, though, those enormous undertakings, they would never take the place of the semicolon, the half-written, the atmospheric, the unsaid. 

Breaking out of one's physical confines is a difficult trick, though. I am not at all a person of boundless energy, or even temperament - hence the need for meticulous management of my time. It's a constant push to keep your vision fixed on, well, the vision.

2012, despite rather jagged beginnings, is going to be a very good year. 

isn't life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves?  - A.W.

Conrad Schumann, Iconic Photographs, Memory and Time.

"Only since 9 November 1989 have I felt truly free."

Conrad Schumann and I are caught up in each other. 

And by this I mean that I am caught up with him. 

I do feel fastened to him, in some way that I can't pinpoint. For some reason. 

The exact place of the leap? The co-ordinates? 52.539 , 13.399 - the corner of Ruppiner Strasse and Bernauer Strasse. Unfortunately I can't enter in the cool little S symbol that I love. Schisse. 

He's been turned over and over in my mind. Not the jump, as such - but then, of course, if not the jump then what else? A leap was the fulcrum for his entire existence. His life before led up to it...and his life after, well, it led down, away from that exact spot where he would be frozen in a reflection of himself forever. 

That's the thing about iconic photographs, isn't it? They end up looking at their own reflection for all time, a reflection that speaks volumes to the world, but other, quieter things (perhaps), to them. 

I'm not sure if this post is making sense. 

In trying to articulate my thoughts, however, well. I wrote 402 words today, in an hour. It's going to be a bit tough, getting it down, untangling my thoughts from each other. 

It's good though that this piece will actually really be fiction, for keeps this time. 

Willow Springs is a reference to a piece by Sean Lovelace, which is an exploration of the shooting of Andy Warhol.
The protagonist of the English Patient was himself also a real person, fictionalised then by Ondaatje. 

News from the World of Irish Comics and A Request For An Animation Illustrator Type Artist Person To Realise My Dream of Being Awesome

Woop woop! 

I would describe myself as a mid-level comicbook nerd, in that I know where some of the quotes in the Batman movies come from (which comics, I mean), but I wouldn't be able to go into the nitty gritty like timelines and things. I've read the classics and a little random stuff and that's about it. 

So yeah, I wrote a comic once, you know.  I'll see if I can find the storyboard somewhere and photo it and show you in all its fantastically rubbish glory. I've always wanted to write comics but I have been led to believe one needs an artist for such things, and everyone I've talked to about it has said no. LOSERS.

It would be really cool in a gender-bending, transgressive fiction, genre-defying way. I don't know what it would be about or who the characters would be but that's what it would be like. 

IF YOU ARE AN ANIMATION ILLUSTRATOR ARTIST PERSON WHO WANTS TO DO SOMETHING UNUSUAL FOR FREE, I'M READY AND WILLING.

Coming back to the point, there's a comic called Róisín Dubh, and you can buy both volumes here. It's published by Atomic Diner who are pretty cool if Freakshow is anything to go by. There's a review of Róisín Dubh here actually, at the Irish Comic News. 

So yeah a SIGNING! I love signings. Like this: <3 

And the day after this is EPIC CON!! 

a misty swamp-river rivulet day

A strange, drifting day, in which I cannot precisely account for the time. A Lady of Shalott day. In a ghastly way, I'm reminded that it's Virginia Woolf's birthday.

I was going to write a little poem about this dreaminess, but the rules of the haiku are too convoluted for my sluggish mind this evening.

All that I can do to convey everything I mean to say in this post is to play this song and have you lie down on the couch with your eyes closed and listen (maybe not on loop as I've been doing).