The word.

 

Letterpress print by artist Sam Winston.

Dear Letters,

Are you busy forming words today?  Making concrete poetry, I hope?  Here is your song for today, and please also enjoy this example of concrete poetry, titled, Fingers Remember, by poet Marilyn Nelson.

       Long     fing-     ers,       how

       signals   flow      up         them

        from      tip       and       finger-

         print      all       the           way

          up         the      arm        and

          the       neck     to          what

          ever     magic   light       takes

          flame   so       touch      ignites

          as the   palm    smooths    warm

         from one person to another, passes

         sunlight one skin has taken in, which

          the other receives like thirsty soil gulps

          rain and infinite generations of ancestors

           yawn awake asking if it’s time for the line

to         miracle up a new life. They were so young,

and     innocence is a birth gift intended all along

to be    opened with love, promises, and blessing

as you enter the future that only exists if you live

into it. His name was John. His moving muscles

 formed shapes she had not met before. Green

  time laid its fragranced landscape before them.

   So they entered. Married. Irene came soon.

   At eighteen, Gussie was widowed, with a

    toddler older than her youngest siblings.

     The family’s hand opened and closed

       in welcome. But fingers remember.

Source: Poetry (December 2019)

matchbooks of lonely places

 

Dear Listener,

A song for you, for today.  

More soon!

the waiting

 

Dear Typists and Sketchbook Users,

My typewriter was out; getting cleaned and repaired.  It's back now, and I used it to finish up my sketchbook to be sent to the Brooklyn Art Library.  They have this great sketchbook project, see, where you can purchase a little empty book, fill it up, and send it back to their shelves where it can live, waiting for someone to look at it.  

It's a beautiful notion, and I hope someone will go and find my little book.  I put some velvet on the cover, imagining that would be nice for this person to feel when they pick my book up off the shelf.  I do wonder, though, if anyone will pick it up.  I mean, they have an awful lot of books there!  

It's enough, though, for me, to imagine it there, waiting, for someone's hands.  

Skyward

 

Dear Dodoistes,

Did y'all see this sky a few nights ago?  All these little chunks of cloud, set out in rows?  So lovely!

New toy.

 

Dear All,

Think of it is an upgrade to your service here on the Dodo.  It's my first digital camera, and it's a new toy.

House of the Illustrious.

 

Dear Radio Dodo Listeners,

Here is your song for today.  

Now, while that is playing, take a look at these sculptures of Nancy Rubins'.  I can't decide if I like them or not.  Whatever, you may say, who cares if I like them or not?  Well, that's a good point, but I am still looking to be moved by artwork, even after so much water under the bridge of meaning, the market, and whatever 'self expression' is.  (Now I think they call it 'personal narrative,' which we do care about, but only in as much as we can say we are listening.  I don't think we are supposed to want to make one ourselves; or, if we do, can we please just do it quietly?)

Now, while you decide if you like those sculptures, you can think about this photo of Josephine Baker.  What I am thinking, is this: what is it about this photo that makes it belong here, now?  I am not sure why it wants to be here, but I read a short while ago that she lived in a castle, and I have wanted to tell you so.  (If you would prefer, you can make a very short personal narrative instead of reading about the château.  This should be no more than a page long, very quiet, and written in pencil so history can erase it easily if finds your narrative inconvenient in the future).

À la prochaine!

Good Fortune!

 

Dear Radio-Dodo Heads,

My DJ just played this amazing version of one my favorite songs, and I ran to send it to you, post haste!  Play it loud and see you soon!