Words, Spells and Time.

— During my interview with Giulia, our voices reverberated off the walls.

Outside, church bells chimed periodically throughout the long, meandering conversation. The chimes were sort of a mindfulness bell. I was reminded of this chime tool used by one of my mentors, poet Michelle Naka Pierce, in our pedagogy class. When the chime would go off, no matter where the class was in discussion, we would take a collective breath. The chimes then, like the church bells on the day of the interview, had this effect of adding to or intervening in the unfolding conversation. Both a sonic intrusion, and an embellishment — an exclamation mark even! It’s always an incredible experience to talk craft & inspiration with another artist. The conversation toggled between the particular and the universal, even aspirational at times.

I love the form of the interview. I find it to be the most intimate mode of research, one that requires sustained presence, attention, and time. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about duration — something about reading poetry, or hearing it read out loud, is that there is an added container, which is time. When we’re looking at a piece of visual art, we are free to look as long as we want, or glance and move on. Poetry commands attention for a certain duration; in this way it’s penetrating and abductive.

It’s a temporary spell or mode of transportation. A poem can be immersive like a film. 

Time is cumulative — like fabric it ripples, bends and bunches. And words themselves, which emerge from and bridge bodies, become threaded into our perceptions of how time is passing. I’m thinking about the word “spell”— which evokes influence and casting intention towards a certain outcome. A spell can also denote a period of time… a dry spell, for example. The word “spell” comes from the Proto-Germanic spellan which means “to tell.” Later it was used to mean “take the place of,” and we also use it to mean spell out… to break a word down into its lettered parts. Time is always telling us things, spelling them out, telling on itself. 

Words, Spells and Time.

— During my interview with Giulia, our voices reverberated off the walls.

Outside, church bells chimed periodically throughout the long, meandering conversation. The chimes were sort of a mindfulness bell. I was reminded of this chime tool used by one of my mentors, poet Michelle Naka Pierce, in our pedagogy class. When the chime would go off, no matter where the class was in discussion, we would take a collective breath. The chimes then, like the church bells on the day of the interview, had this effect of adding to or intervening in the unfolding conversation. Both a sonic intrusion, and an embellishment — an exclamation mark even! It’s always an incredible experience to talk craft & inspiration with another artist. The conversation toggled between the particular and the universal, even aspirational at times.

I love the form of the interview. I find it to be the most intimate mode of research, one that requires sustained presence, attention, and time. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about duration — something about reading poetry, or hearing it read out loud, is that there is an added container, which is time. When we’re looking at a piece of visual art, we are free to look as long as we want, or glance and move on. Poetry commands attention for a certain duration; in this way it’s penetrating and abductive.

It’s a temporary spell or mode of transportation. A poem can be immersive like a film. 

Time is cumulative — like fabric it ripples, bends and bunches. And words themselves, which emerge from and bridge bodies, become threaded into our perceptions of how time is passing. I’m thinking about the word “spell”— which evokes influence and casting intention towards a certain outcome. A spell can also denote a period of time… a dry spell, for example. The word “spell” comes from the Proto-Germanic spellan which means “to tell.” Later it was used to mean “take the place of,” and we also use it to mean spell out… to break a word down into its lettered parts. Time is always telling us things, spelling them out, telling on itself. 

— A poem can be an invocation and an invitation. It can slow us down or rush us with urgency.

A poem says, come here, let me show you how it feels to be inside this particular subjectivity. Let me give you a portal, if only for a spell.