I continued writing poetry once I realized I could go beyond mere explanation, that I could use it to experience directly, that I could use it to “hack” my own mind. That is, once I “discovered” (read: was gifted by generous and wise friends) a set of practices (gathered under the moniker “avant-garde” for convenience) that reflected or embodied the mind/thought/language, rather than described what it experienced.

I stopped writing poetry (per se) once I became more enamored of systems than of words, of crowdsourcing than of individual practice, of improvisation than of static objects, of interfaces and structures than of poems. Still, I think like a poet, I hang out with poets, my work is built on avant-poetic practices, so … maybe I haven’t stopped writing poetry (per se)

A few big revelations / milestones / lessons:

• [Language] is a material, an object that is everywhere and that can and should be manipulated as such.
• [Language] is a system (within (and of) systems) that can and should be radically disrupted; since language is inextricably connected with thought, this practice leads to the disruption of “normal” thought patterns and the emergence of a greater understanding of understanding itself. John Cage: “close attention to close attention”
• [Language] (and its extensions: conversation, books, poetry, the academy, nursery rhymes, board games, etc) is inherently social; therefore, any play with language must be social as well, must be shared, explained, and propagated. With their emphasis on games, the Surrealists were the first(?) intentionally(?) “poetic user experience designers.”
• [Language] is intrinsically “of the moment,” the moment of speech, the moment of reading, the moment of performance. Language that is not performed is utterly inert, a dead thing. I hate publishing “poems.” It feels like death.
• “I see [systems of] words.” – Me(as function of Hannah Weiner(as function of language generally))

So, the essentials of my practice (as I see them at the moment):

• A belief that thoughts (and their extensions and sub-elements) can (and should) be conceived of as objects.
• A restless desire to improvise through collections of such thought-objects gathered in my wanderings (as opposed to directly reading something that’s been directly written).
• A belief that everything can (and should) be explained. Walter Benjamin: “the writer who doesn’t teach writing teaches nothing.”
• A fascination with the systems and potential systems that surround and create any moment of thought or language, a fascination that (normally) exceeds that of the fascination with the actual thought or piece of language.
• Holding a growing set of “catch-phrases” close to my awareness:
  • Thoughts are objects!
  • Everything is an interface!
  • No ideas but in (systems) of things!
  • etc
• A relentless gathering of methods with affection for all and allegiance to none.

I perform with Jon in WE ARE SCIENCE! because we are both seekers using all methods at our disposal to understand what’s up, and to invite other people to participate