Between an Eyesle and Not Being Found

[image error] Geof Huth, "an eyesle" (27 October 2011)
I've been in meetings, a big quarterly meeting broken into parts, for the last couple of days, so I have spent some time scribbling little inky fidgetglyphs onto sheets of paper. I think as I write. I listen. I stop and speak. I have plenty to say. But the fact of a flat table before me, along with pads of paper and a pen or two, leads me create these little objects of textual contemplation.

Recently, though, I have been photographing them through a little app on my phone, and this app modifies the glyphs, makes them into something else: photographs, sure; digital objects, sure, to a digital archivist (and who among us isn't one these days?); but also something else: simply, a changed poem. The process of copying these poems changes them.

So these become not the handwritten relics they originally were; they become instead a digital poem with a digital life and a form and aura altogether different. The digital capture of these small writings was nothing more than a way to represent the originals, but it has become a way to extend them visual: to heighten their extant features, or to dull them, to make them hazy, or to edit them.

So now the mouth speaking out of the bottom corner of one of these poems and more only a voice. Nothing more than a silent sound reverberating through space.

Geof Huth, "am NoT / BeING / FOUND" (26 October 2011)

ecr. l'inf.