Author Archives: vhwildman

Ahead lay Cubism and collages, and H. D. cutting bits of Greekness full force into vers-libre poems; and Gaudier about 1913 cut (did not cast) a brass figure that embodies in its four inches several hundred formal decisions: that two triangles, one fish-tailed, shall have open centers and bevelled edges, that four finger-like rectangularities shallContinue reading “ENTER ‘Brass Toy’ (out of Welish)”

He drew a crude attempt of Rimbaud’s face across a windowpane. I wear a mask over my face of his own face, a mask of my own face. And while he was still working at the agency, he made a Photostat of the cover of Illuminations, a life-sized mask of Arthur Rimbaud’s face, soft inContinue reading “Rimbaud in New York, 1978-79”

And this is but a tiny draft, trying out how to write, how an artist like myself attempting now to art my words, to make my research, using Gladman’s word, simultanate itself, conjoin, on the page where one appears to always be moving forward (though I am always moving back), a transformation of a melodyContinue reading “notes from yesterday”

I am always grappling with the precise arrangement of my words, the words I’m laying out like paint over a blanked out surface – should I move this preposition over there or keep it here? should I shift this clause or phrase to the middle of the sentence or should I keep it at theContinue reading “A note from yesterday”

Aurora and aurora and aurora. It may lie on top of the page as the rising light of the morning, or the dawn of the day, or the redness of the sky only just before the rising of our star. The first connecting lines, making something new appear. A word related to another. Joins, toContinue reading “‘AURORA AND AURORA AND AURORA’ (A NOTE FROM 05.06.19)”

She had become her own puppet – something to be posed and played with, something hanging from a doorway – life-sized, almost crucified. While all the while Guibert arranged – in both photography and words – himself, making from himself a puppet for his sex and for his life, ventriloquizing Thomas Bernhard in what mightContinue reading “ANTON, GUIBERT, WOODMAN – ‘ANIMATING LIFE’”

You asked me how I’m getting on.   There are times I suffer isolation. Trying to write I do anything to avoid beginning, yet I am always beginning. Starting again I want and need to be interrupted, and yet it’s only when I am not that I can work. Sitting here in this café, inContinue reading “A Letter from Mieke to Geert (after Marcia Hafif)”

There is an Irish rock band, based mainly out of Dublin, called The Frames. The Frames were once a ‘cult’ band, today they’re widely popular, known through all of Ireland, performing in the U.S. and in Europe. Glen Hansard, their lead singer, worked in a bicycle shop for a little while, but the name cameContinue reading “from FRAMES”

In 1932, Jan Brzekowski, born in Wisnicz Nowy on the 18th of December 1903, who studied in Cracow and in Paris, and in 1924, together with Tadeusz Peiper, Julian Przybos and Jalo Kurek, formed the so-called ‘Cracow avant-garde’ group of poets, publishes a reproduction of Katarzyna Kobro’s  Spatial Composition (5) as an example of UnismContinue reading “SPATIAL COMPOSITION NO. 5”

                                                      The articulated structure of the tractate is invisible from the outside. Consciously composed, his texts make meaning inextricable from the text’s dense interweaving of semantic and formal linguistic elements. This is prose that immediately announces itself as diction. Spellbound by what is fixed and acknowledged to be derivative. The walls stand speechless and cold.Continue reading “Weathercock Clatter, or (Mis)translating Adorno”