Showing posts with label i seem to have gone blind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label i seem to have gone blind. Show all posts

Saturday, December 24, 2011

I Seem To Have Gone Blind












What is all of this?

Well it is my first collection, put together by my own two hands- painted, wallpapered, doodled and poesy-ized. There are only five of them in existence (at least for now!)

Where are they?

The five books are located in Stacked Bookshop, which is located inside the beautiful vintage shop, The Fine Art of Design, in Palm Springs! Here is a great write up about the store. Support used/vintage/small press book shops! Also these books can be shipped to you! Just let me know by leaving a comment with your email and I will send you more information!


If you have any questions about this collection, the bookshop or the vintage store please ask me!

Happy Holidays!



Monday, August 22, 2011

Dance Me Through The Panic Till I'm Gathered Safely In



The collection is here!
 If you get a chance stop by The Fine Art of Design and visit Stacked Bookshop, located inside the shop if you wish for your copy. There is only five, yikes!

 The Un-Included Introduction, If You Will


There always is this yearning, almost dirty desire to be read and to be enjoyed. A sort of exploited desperation that exists within a writer when commissioned to create a collection. It seems almost necessary to title it i seem to have gone blind as well as cover it with headless naked women. Each poem dedicates itself to the idea that "the image of undistorted nature arises only in distortion, as its opposite." Nothing here can be claimed as fact, but nothing can be claimed as fiction.


I was told that this experience is something I will look back on and feel relief. And it really is a beautiful thing, in the way that beauty can be sick and intrusive. As for the recent pieces of poetry, a million thanks, dear Ireland. Finishing this collection brings me the release, the only path of escape. In the process during which I wrote the recent poems, I felt I did not create enough. But now I can remove myself and peer at what I did create, and although it is not much, I created something internally worthy for myself. For what has been created is exactly how I want to remember it.