Author Archives: vhwildman

I am here and there is nothing to say. Nothing is happening. Nothing is happening. Nothing is happening. Whenever nothing is happening. Not happening is happening.   We are just talking. That is all that we are doing. That is all that we are not doing. This is in fact writing. This is just aContinue reading “NON-HAPPENINGS”

There is something about the vertical. The vertical is wild. A painter will perhaps agree that a color insists on being a certain size, regardless of his wishes. The color may go on the surface as a pointillistic dot, as something hardly even noticed, as a line or a smudge or a dash, or itContinue reading “Vertical Thoughts 1 (after Morton Feldman)”

Isolated figures    drawn   on a blank piece of paper             with a meandering line            War Against Homes               And everything is gone   impersonality           Cheap as Mud            Rigor Mortis. Gestures.       Ink on white, light-grey, light-brown, or greenish paper            bordering these documentary       photographs          The Existence of Feet that Trod             and receding into a boundless white void   Continue reading “‘The poetic structure of the disintegrating text’”

Double Vision Double Trio Fukt The Years My Life I Confess Choosing Not Choosing Things Sound by Artists Alice Knott Infrathin Portrait of a Tongue Reading Rilke Rocks Letters to Jill Awake In the Dark Room Written in Invisible Ink Crudo Word Events Dictee Tuning Turn Delirious Objects in this Mirror Ideogram Dark Spring BirdContinue reading “From My Shelves of Books”

They were lived with living   I have not ordered them       to educate the fingers           carving out the heads and arms and legs of tiny wooden dolls performing vitally our lives                          respecting the boundaries or edges of the text, revising these bumps by cutting and restitching from outside, keeping new writing to a minimum and inContinue reading “After Skillings (after Ashbery)”

To the last two days here, there is a novel-within-the novel, nothing happens and it always rains. Short in often one or two-word sentences, reports from a stream, like a photograph. A sudden absence from herself, circling thoughts, preoccupation with suicide (one for example: cut with scissors). But writing can only be done about failureContinue reading “SHELTER”

She had come from afar. It was the first day. And she was walking through Solonga’s loft. In preparation. Swallows with last efforts last wills against the pain that wishes it to speak. Theresa speaking from afar through layers of cotton bandaged all around her throat. A growing spot growing red, more and more redContinue reading “MIEKE (After Hong/Before Cha)”

Encouraging experimentation with the medium house paint on cardboard and plywood with a bank of images reproductions blessing isolation and periphery but it did so (in glass) a non-descriptive space co-curating fields across the chicken wire a small apartment where he and his wife partition in fact sketches that involved perspective stand-alone drawings a pieceContinue reading “Nahum Tevet (after de Duve)”

She filled old ledgers with her scratchy handwriting, ‘pirouettes of speech,’ playing with language,  ‘Steinwriting,’ as she called it.   A ‘just-breath summer,’ ‘sand thoughts all  from sea,’    ‘ grey monotones and fog.’   Sometimes writing in her journals in the third person. Her attitude toward her photography –  dire, urgent, passionate –  full of  insecurity, self-doubt. In many of the entries there are notes on photos she plans toContinue reading “Francesca (after Somerville, Missouri)”

Flowers optimistically going to seed         producing it in fragments                       It is midday in the sentence         and the blue is sky       all high             Reason in sentences       and blackbirds             determined        What is    Greek             swarming into pattern     part of a field     isolate               changing colors, the walls of a room        the big chance for each             Continue reading “(after Hejinian) HAPPILY”