Leaving things behind.

We tend to leave behind things that are "merely aesthetic" and replace them with things that are more utilitarian, and in the long run the culture suffers for it.  Its like throwing the baby out with the bathwater!  

I remember reading Dylan Thomas when I was in highschool.  

He was kind of cool, but didn't make much sense to me, until I heard recordings of him reading his poetry aloud - that was like lifting a veil.  There was a level of meaning, yes, that I hadn't grasped by my silent reading, but there was also the sheer pleasure that the sound and rhythms of his voice evoked.  The poems became powerful, invocations, spells, magic.  

Shakespeare was the same way.  Seeing a staged production of "The Tempest" was a real eye opener.  When I read the play to myself, it seemed dark and serious and engrossing, but onstage it was flashy, quick-witted, often hilarious, and very straightforward.  

We need to take some time to reestablish some new oral traditions.  I'd love to see some people take on the task of memorizing and performing "The Odyssey" for example.  (Odds Bodkin, bless him, has done it, and it was wonderful!)  Some of the younger poets involved with the poetry slam movement have got the right idea - write the poem, then bring it to life!  

We are also losing in other realms.  Movies, watched on a small screen in the privacy of one's home are convenient - but the pleasure and socialization that can be had by going to a community movie theater far surpasses the more personal experience.  And better still, rather than watching a film on a screen, to see a live performance, either musical or theatrical. Each of these experiences are similar, but they are not by any means the same.

When I'm working on the book, people often come over and ask things like "wouldn't it be easier to do that with a computer?"  The fact that I'm working hard and consistently every day on the project seems to puzzle them completely.  Then I let them thumb through a few pages for themselves and I watch, not without a bit of humor, as they lose their understanding of what a book is for a moment.  Often, after a few pages have be viewed, the inquirer will look at me and say something like "I've never seen anything like this!"  And they understand, somewhat.  Were I to duplicate the book, it would not have the same impact.  Each painting is hand made.  That means that the images have a different level of meaning and intention than they would if printed on a press.  There is a texture to the paper.  The ink and paint have multiple levels.  If you look closely, the marks reveal the actions of the brush, or the pen that created them.  Some of those things would transmit in a published version, but not all.  Something of the magic would be lost in translation.  

When an artist makes a painting, the surface of the paper or canvas or board is activated by the paint.  The marks are made by physical actions, and each action is a significant thing in and of itself.  When we see a painting reproduced digitally, we can see indications of those physical actions, but the reproduction doesn't really represent those actions completely.  One is just a surrogate for the other.  You can see something of a painting in a reproduction, but you can't see everything.  And you can't smell the oils, run your fingers across the surface to feel the bumps and ridges in the paint, change your angle of viewing to see the difference in the glazes and impastos from one region to the next.  

I think its sad to see paintings kept imprisoned in museums where there are barriers between the viewer and the artwork, or the pictures are under glass, which diminishes the color presence, and neutralizes much of the surface of the painting.  

As far as books go, I think its sad that Illuminated Books have become so rare that when we do see them, they are protected under plexiglas vitrines on pedestals.  Books were meant to be handled, studied, even altered.  Certainly one wants to protect them and preserve them, but surely it shouldn't be at the cost of using them for their intended purpose - which is to open a magical door, to be read and touched and smelled and seen.  When you hide a book or a work on paper under glass, you also freeze its history.  No more fingermarks, tears, dings, scratches, other indications of that books history will manifest.  Forensic scientists can find out a lot about books by examining them chemically - but the present time would reveal nothing of their usage because they have been taken out of the world.  

I'd like to take my books on tour - set them up on tables in public places, let people pick them up, open and page through, read as much or as little as they like, make an impression on the book with their hands, breaths, sneezes.  A book can't develop a memory if it is hidden in a safe.  

I would suggest that making things by hand is always preferable.  That doing it digitally should be an alternative when something must be accomplished with expediency, but computers should not be our only tools.  They should be an adjunct to the artworks that we have learned to make, not a replacement for them.  

So here is a bit of a suggestion:  if you are a poet, memorize at least a few of your poems and recite them out loud any time you can, both alone to yourself, and in front of other people.  If you write a play, make sure it get staged.  If staging is too expensive, have public readings.  If you can't afford a hall to do the readings in, do it in a park, a city square, someplace public.  

When you take your work public, make sure that there is interaction.  Don't discourage comments, criticisms, suggestions.  Interact with the audience.