Leave the window open

In applying to a contest for an author, I discovered that we are a micro press, or as Chris Anderson put it, a micro publisher. Bloggers fall into this category. We happen to actually make books. I take it humorously when at my best. The notion of the bottom of the heap doesn’t really creep in until I struggle with wholesalers and merchants that put us into a category of ‘back-ordered, takes 2 to 4 weeks.’

One author posted a concerned essay about his feelings as a contest winner, professional writer of experience, a man of perception and discernment, and his words wove into my mind the state of societies and cultures that teach ambition and standards with the beauty of those that are more naturally creating as a part of life. Who can say when expression became creative art, when image making and story telling, music, grew into forms of communicating news or myth (perhaps Joseph Campbell?). How often do we remember the effect of hearing or seeing something that stirred us profoundly?

I can remember hearing Count Basie live and how my body responded, when I was about eight or nine. I remember as a teen coming upon a Monet whose form took shape from brushstrokes to landscape as I stepped away in the museum.

In reading a special section”The Beauty We Are Made of”, 6th annual debut poets roundup in Poets & Writers Inspiration Issue, Jan-Feb 2011, I was struck by Karen Weiser’s words under Source of Inspiration: “The desire to connect with the unknown through writing. This desire sometimes comes about when I have certain vivid mental and physical experiences. The easiest ones to name are reading, dreaming, and looking at art, but often it can be as simple as walking down a street or a striking shade of light or a great conversation.”

These words reminded me of when I was younger and life experience seemed closer to my creative process, in that moment of reading Karens words, the way life seemed to touch me and inspire me as an image maker and a musician. This was a window opening, and I saw myself again. Now it seem as if I am trying to describe what a creative writer would simply write, through a figure of speech, through the juxtaposition of words, amplify the universal aspect of a reverie. I have usually felt that this is something I cannot really do, except by accident, with words, even though I have the feeling and understanding, I can’t put it into words without time and a lot of effort. But I am fulfilled being able to design books that present what I consider to be the special work of people who can write, and I try to give them individuality through that design and typography.


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