Kirke, a friend and regular visitor to { X-PreSsionz } had a nasty fall on Friday in Pittsburgh and ended up with a cracked rib which makes it painful for him to laugh, cough, sneeze or even sleep as he cannot find a comfortable position.
Just wanted to send a get well shout out...Get lots of rest and get well soon.
Kirke is an artist. Does work in t.v., film and online. Creates beautiful graphics including screen prints, animations and all kinds of really great artistic work. Works mainly with Photoshop. I can't link to his site as he's now in the process of revamping things...at least he was until his fall. Have a great Labor Day Kirke and to all of you here (US) when it rolls around.
Josh and I were having a conversation about reading and writing. He teaches in the Bronx and we both reminisced about our early childhood and school days and the point at which reading and writing became like second nature. I thought about it more afterwards and it became the subject of this entry.
I was about eight or nine years old when writing began its fascination with me. I read back then but usually mysteries; the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys series--remember those? I'm sure if I dug deeper into my past I might find old copies buried somewhere under heaps of sentimental dust.
But as to writing's fascination with me, it found me curious, questioning, eager and daringly persuaded me to put pencil to paper back then, to form my thoughts into words.
Writing and I soon became constant companions. There were times of course when we had our fallouts. My fault usually, for whenever I felt sad or depressed I have often turned my back on writing--wordless. Writing often would return the favor with a loud silence.
These fallouts were never for long though, for I have long learned how to manipulate writing to bring about reconciliation. I found that assuming the proverbial position--pen in hand--worked best.
Reading had placed a considerable second in position to writing for a long time. It was not until I entered college and encountered great courses and professors that the impetus for reading became a priority. The impetus was due in part or whole--I'm not sure which--to professors like Hanley, Soliday, Watts, Oppenheimer and a couple of others whose names I cannot recall.
I recall however, the passion and vigor they all exuded as they taught. The force of their words, their enthusiasm and mostly, their love of the subject at hand and the way they communicated in written and oral forms always left me (and other listeners I'm sure), spellbound and hanging to the edge of our seats.
But it was in college that my attempt at sustained (perhaps sophisticated) reading was achieved. It goes without saying that this in turn helped me fine-tune my writing. I had become more interested in history, art, theories of language, the novel, its origin, poetry, philosophy and the great ancients and their successors held in high esteem by academia.
These days, I read more often than I write but none holds supremacy over the other in terms of which one I prefer. I love both but whether I read or write, I've found that there is always room for improvement.
"Through a portal on 419 East 6th Street in Manhattan, a traveler passes into the sunset/sunrise--A desert terrain locked into the mindframe between night and day--in search of a lost treasure" |Yael Karnek|
So begins the preface to { World of Awe } where I have lately been poking around to explore Yael's project. An expedition throughout the digital terrain is where Yael takes us at first glance. But to me, it is also an exploration of the inner terrain of the human soul which she presents in the form of two lovers--one who travels and laments the absence of the other lover in the form of written love letters signed perhaps at the moments of extreme loneliness.
Yael explains World of Awe as "a collection of love letters that open from digital landscapes and journal entries that describe events occurring through the expedition." Various chapters hightlights poignant themes. For instance, Chapter 2 (which was commissioned back on June 10, 2002 by the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art), " is loosely based" explains { Yael }, "on the theme of destruction and mending, establishing relationships between skins: human, interface, and land..."
"Chapter 2 begins the dissemination of The Journal over the network. Thus, the relationship to travel and the imagined geography of the Internet as well as the Sunset/Sunrise is further enhanced"
There are several things I like about World of Awe. Firstly, not only is it interactive it is also highly immersive. You become part of the expedition and you are almost sure to request that the Love Letter Dispatcher sends out it's weekly letter to update you on the progress of the hunt. Secondly, there is also the map that you can generate to give you an idea of where you began and ended as you trekked throughout the world of Awe landscape. Thirdly, what I found most interesting, is Yael's attempt to capture and present a particular moment in time. She has latched on to the space between Sunrise and Sunset. Somewhere between those two fragments of time is the climax-- the precise mommet at which the anonymous traveler signs the letter to the anonymous lover. Not even is the signature revealing for it is usually signed in the following manner:
"Yours forever,
Your sunset/sunrise forever yours,
Yours forever yours."
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Last modified: 9/13/09, 1:17 AM