August 2010
8 posts
Evan Caminiti, West Wind (Three Lobed, 2010)
A boat floats out into a mist. Fog rounds punctuated by open lanes parsed light and possibly drifting detritus. The pulsing water and dampening in the heavy air make placing sound difficult. But you hear dimensions across the water, some near, others far, some seeming placed and others scattered across space. When they quiet, or rather when you leave them, you think in delayed quintuplicate....
Clouwbeck (Richard Skelton), From Which the River...
Come the Aegir Faint footsteps fall on the leaves leading out of the pine wood, the path a tender of needles. This plush blanket holds the earth in place but suspends an incongruous train of change above. Wind breaks. Tamping feet and paws and claws. Feather drops. Pelting rain or pollen. Beyond a meadow, milkweed thrush cooing in a breeze now ages old. This whoosh. The river clearly in view now...
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Clouwbeck (Richard Skelton), From Which the River...
Richard Skelton’s latest work begins, as always, with the ritual of its packaging. A folded paper enclosure held closed by a vertical paper band bearing, longitudinally, the phrase thug taibhse gu dian an àiridh. At center a fragment in Ogham (an early Celtic form of inscription) that translates, if I am correct, as SRL, the initials Skelton has stand in for his Sustain-Release Private...