Books in flight

I (meaning my partner) stumbled upon a photographer who takes multiple exposures of open books, flipping the pages until a ghostly composite image emerges. Rather than post a copyrighted image, I'll take you to him:

Doug Keyes

You go, Dougie.

Racquetball: Game of Angels

Kelvin-Helmholtz vortices on the dawnside of the magnetosphere

For your digestion and purchase

Like Platina, I believe that reading upstanding moral literature can soothe the digestion. So if you experience any discomfort in your daily gastronomy, consider purchasing one of my chapbooks or broadsides:

The chapbook, Been Raw Diction, was published in a free online edition by the Dusie Press Kollektiv in 2006.

If you would like your own actual handsewn, acid free copy, now in its second and last printing of 100 copies, please send me an email and I will send you a chapbook. The cost of the chap is $6, or $15 signed to your pet.

The broadside is a poem, "What Lucy Used to Be," which I letterpressed in summer 2006 at The Center for Book Arts, in an edition of 75 copies. Numbered copies are $10 including shipping. The poem is soon to be published in the anthology The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel, Second Floor.

More items to come!

Welcome

Cook: A good poet differs nothing at all from a master-cook. Either art’s the wisdom of the mind.
Poet: As how, sir?
Cook: I am by my place to know how to please the palates of the guests; so, you are to know the palate of the times, study the several tastes, what every nation, the Spaniard, the Dutch, the Walloon, the Neapolitan, the Briton, the Sicilian can expect from you.... For there’s a palate of the understanding as well as of the senses. The taste is taken with good relishes, the sight with fair objects, the hearing with delicate sounds, the smelling with pure scents, the feeling with soft and plump bodies, but the understanding with all these, for all which you must begin at the kitchen. There the art of poetry was learned and found out, or nowhere, on the same day with the art of cookery.

—Ben Jonson, Neptune’s Triumph for the Return of Albion

On Cucumbers

"First of all, the force and nature of the cucumber should be explained.... The most harmful of all cucumbers is the serpentine, which rightly receives its name from the snake. Columella explains its force in these lines of verse:

The dark cucumber which is born with a distended middle,
Rough and like a snake sheltered in tangled grass,
Lies on its curved belly, always curled in a coil
And inflicting dangerous illness in the harmful summer."

—Platina, On Right Pleasure and Good Health