The bottom line, man

At the start of my life in poetry’s thrall I’d vowed to try to get through its choppy waters without any bitterness. The terms were: no whining, no acrimony. The disappointment I was coming across among my elders, though veiled, upset me. Attempting to avoid it seemed like a small but worthy act of compassion. And so, the eventual realization that one’s work might be an oversight. Which, however, meant nights (and days) of wondering whether these munificent aspirations weren’t merely passive aggression. Was I entering a state of denial? Had I chosen to avoid my anger by avoiding competition? Was performance anxiety the real reason for this apparent withdrawal? Did I fear not living up to an early promise? Finally I answered no to all this. These felt like imposed judgements, not part of the intuition that led me to try to accept neglect. A large share of these feelings were clearly the silent, tacit opinion of other people.

Thomas Meyer  |  From On Being Neglected
fromtheplains:

landlockedphoto:

Creatures of Habit is in the shop!  
Features 19 images from 8 photographers creating in the American West.
Included photographers are: Britannie Bond, Elicia Epstein, Cait Kovac, Zak Long, Nate Matos, Sam Slater, Harry Snowden, and Jeff Wagar
32 pages / designed and printed in Gillette, Wyoming

It’s here!  A few copies of Landlocked’s first zine are available via Big Cartel.

fromtheplains:

landlockedphoto:

Creatures of Habit is in the shop!  

Features 19 images from 8 photographers creating in the American West.


Included photographers are: Britannie Bond, Elicia Epstein, Cait Kovac, Zak Long, Nate Matos, Sam Slater, Harry Snowden, and Jeff Wagar


32 pages / designed and printed in Gillette, Wyoming

It’s here!  A few copies of Landlocked’s first zine are available via Big Cartel.

The poem holds its ground, if you will permit me yet another extreme formulation, the poem holds its ground on its own margin. In order to endure, it constantly calls and pulls itself back from an ‘already-no-more’ into a ‘still-here’.

Paul Celan   |   From The Meridian