I sometimes say that my religion is art, but this may do an injustice to art. Because I believe that art emerges first, before religion, in the conscious cosmos. When a being finds oneself alone with an inner life, with imagination, with the waking residue of dreams, with speculation, with euphoria, as well as with traumas, anxieties, awareness of death and of mysteries, what is the attempt to share this initially inexpressible awareness somehow with another, if not art? It is not simply communication in the mundane sense, not an attempt to coordinate or negotiate, but an attempt to commune: […]
Journal
Prosaic Omphalic Vistas
I am about to pivot to a more reflective and prosaic mode on Dayword, still focused on poetry but withholding new poems of my own for awhile. The happy news is that I’m returning to Athens, where among experiences to come I will be working on a poetry collection. The process demands some withholding, to let the work become itself without arbitrary exhibitionism. If you’re in Athens in the next two months and happen to have a bottle of wine, you can hear some. Speaking of arbitrary exhibitionism, and while we’re navel gazing, I confess this is my greatest disappointment […]