Studio B has me back with Angela Colasanti this Friday

This is how I might promote this free workshop:

Angela Colasanti and Marshall Warfield are up to their old tricks: audience participation in the visual and communication arts.

Sort of.

On Friday night at Studio B they ask, “When you see a painting how does your mind arrive at its thoughts about the artwork? When you call a piece "bold," "soothing," or "disquieting," how did you develop that opinion? How does your mind make meaning from what your eyes see?” Join them for this free workshop: a two-step, interactive presentation, with a twist of adaptation and perhaps the influence of the subconscious. Oh, and yes, painting. Guests will be painting. Explore the idea known as intertextuality and its role in the creative process. The workshop starts at 7pm, Studio B is at 39A East Philadelphia Ave., Boyertown, PA 19010.

Death and an Essay by Randon Billings Noble

I awoke at three this morning to utter silence in my neighborhood as what I imagined must only have been the eye of Hurricane Sandy drifted over my house.  The rain had stopped. The wind was barely a breeze, and I could see the full moon between gaps in the clouds. I lit a candle and sat down to read. By six there was enough light to clear some branches from my driveway. Outside in the now drizzling morning, I looked over my head at the huge oak across the street; I was ready to run at the slightest sound of creaking, groaning, cracking--whatever warning I might have before a limb (or more) comes falling toward me. I gathered branches with that understanding of what I was risking. I didn't really need to gather those branches then, but it comforted me to clear a path for my car--whenever I would need it. Why am I telling you this? Because I couldn't put words to my feelings until I read this essay by Randon Billings Noble. She captures what I was feeling so much more eloquently, and with so much more depth and complexity, that my words above still pretty much sound like some kind of extended belch. I also appreciate the risks taken by her essay, "Memento Mori." When I finished it, I literally said, "Wait. What? Really? Woah." It's about the DC Snipers. It's about being a better person. It's also about some monks, a crypt, a short story by Flannery O'Connor, and shopping for placemats. And, it's about death.  It's in the fall issue of propellermag.com. I highly recommend it.

Reading during Hurricane Sandy

What will you be reading by candlelight?

Wait. The Pen and Pencil is open before 2am?

Yes, it's true. I know that many of you think of the Pen and Pencil as the next destination when the restaurants and bars close, but the Pen and Pencil club is open for early-evening fun, too. In fact, it's open for a fiction slam this Thursday night at 7:30PM. Free admission. And just so you know, this is not your usual slam.

For those of you not familiar with the Pen and Pencil, it's located at 1522 Latimer Street  Philadelphia, PA 19102. The Pen and Pencil is the oldest journalism club in America, and it is the gracious host of Painted Bride Quarterly's monthly fiction slam series. The fun starts at 7:30PM on the fourth Thursday of every month. You had better come this Thursday, the 25th, because, well, Painted Bide Quarterly won't be at the P&P on Thanksgiving night. Sorry, that fourth Thursday is out.

See you Thursday night.

Enjoy this colorful flyer. 

Top 3 Reasons for Writers to Visit Bryn Mawr College this Fall

The next six weeks are good ones for lovers of good writing who live near Bryn Mawr College (101 North Merion Ave, Bryn Mawr, PA 19010).

Jean Valentine, Mary Gaitskill, and Terrance Hayes are reading there. These readings are free and open to the public.

For details on the specific location and time, visit http://www.brynmawr.edu/arts/cwprs.html If you're not familiar with these authors, the bios are also at that link. I have heard each of these authors read before, and each time was an eye-opening, educational experience. What they do in their genres is worth paying attention to.

First up is Jean Valentine. She reads tomorrow night, Wednesday, October 24th, at 7:30 pm. I was lucky enough to be instructed by Jean several years ago. She asked us to memorize a poem for each class; it was a straightforward yet important request. It reminded me of how I sometimes too easily, and too thoughtlessly, separate the rhythm of language from the ideas. Go see her and show support for Bryn Mawr College's great series.

David Keplinger

I've been sending out poems more diligently lately, and as I researched journals that I like (but don't always get a chance to stay current with), I was happy to see David Keplinger's name in quite a few places. His book, The Clearing, is apparently out of stock at Amazon (even though it reports 3 new copies). Sad day. I hope New Issues Press has more to sell to the ol' mega-retailer. Whether I like it or not, for a lot of people, Amazon.com is the first place a lot of people buy visit when they're looking to buy a book.

I hope Amazon gets more, because I hope more people read Keplinger's work. I found an excerpt from The Clearing here and another, here.

My Writing Workshop

I say, "Twitter eays my eyeballs" with relish.

The clause, "Twitter eats my eyeballs" (with or without the period) cannot be found by Google in any documents. As Google apparently has crawled through, scanned, and generally assimilated most of the planet's texts created since 1999, I'm going to claim this simple sentence as mine. I win, Internet.

Twitter eats my eyeballs.

I just had to say it again. Speaking of Twitter, I've updated my profile and followed a few more folks. I'm @yesthatwarfield  That's @yesthatwarfield, as in "Yes, that, Warfield. The one on the internet. The one who wrote, 'Twitter eats my eyeballs."

Rockwell Integrated Space Plan: Updating a Previous Post

Thanks to Sean Ragan over at blog.makezine.com a copy of the plan is now available online! Read his post!

Have a Story about the New Jersey Pine Barrens?

dskessler.com/pinesfilm/story-submission/

Currently in production, the film Pines: a cinematic exploration of the New Jersey Pine Barrens is looking for stories. Please consider visiting the link at the end of this email to submit your story or a story that was passed on to you. Story-tellers may appear in the film. Here is the text from the story submission page:

"Keeping the Pine Barrens oral history alive We know a lot of you have great stories to tell from your time in the Pine Barrens.  Or maybe you know some stories that were passed down to you?  Something out of the ordinary, something that tested you, something that changed you? We are collecting those stories.  I’ll post them here on the blog – and for the ones we like the best – we’ll come out and let you tell the story on camera as part of the film. http://dskessler.com/pinesfilm/story-submission/ "

Questions? Please visit the film's main page at http://pinebarrensfilm.com

I just thought you all should know.

Better Writing through Research

My latest project is a set of poems which take place in the New Jersey Pine Barrens. My research started online: reading observations and reflections, studying photographs, and analyzing maps.  But, knowing that nothing beats first-hand research, last Wednesday I spent the afternoon and evening in Wharton State Forest. I've included a few photos here. I have almost two dozen more that will serve as a kind of visual database from which I will draw as a write and revise.

Yet, photos don't record enough. I traveled to the Pines to make observations that I hadn't discovered in my reading. I wasn't sure I would be rewarded for my efforts, but I had to go--even just to feel the Pine Barrens sun on my face and the Pine Barrens wind on my arms. Luckily, I got more than that. The first thing I discovered was the flies. I had been to the Pine Barrens before, but not on a hot August day just after torrential rains. The flies overwhelmed me. Various breeds. They bit. They buzzed. At times they even swarmed. At the worst moments during the day, a swarm might surround me and squirm into my hair--short as it was--and my eyes, nose, the corners of my mouth, my ears. Mostly a few dozen or so would bite as I took pictures or walked around. Relief would come occasionally from a strong breeze. The flies took refuge in the ground covering, and for a few minutes we went about our separate business.

In the ruins of the town of Friendship, someone had decorated a big tree with a piece of art--a painted mirror. I hadn't expected that. The artist? KB. Ants crawled all over it. If no one removes it, the elements surely will.

Most relevant to the trip was perhaps one of my last observations. My traveling companion and I stayed past sunset, well into the dark. Very dark. Middle of the woods dark. He turned on a bright maglite I had brought, and the beam was choked with clouds of churning pollen. Invisible during the day, the pollen was clearly something we had been swimming in, breathing in. It occurred to me that people who spend years of their lives here are more apart of the Pines then we might realize.

Writing Artist's Statements: The Agony Discussed

Over at From the Hatchery (a great blog by a friend of mine), there's an interesting post on the agony of writing artist's statements. I like the discussion, too (and not just because I'm in it--although that's part of it).

If this post doesn't grab you, go read her other posts. You might be interested to know that she writes essays, and she's been published in the New York Times. I was trying not to blurt that out, but I couldn't help it.

Dig Charles Schneider's Collage Work

Seriously. Dig it. His work brims with electricity and irony. I have one shot below (from a show in June of 2003), but much of his work is now here. Enjoy.

If you're friends with me on facebook, you can see the rest of my photos from that show.

The Band is on Hiatus

Perhaps posting some photos of us hard at work a few weeks ago will help me carry on.

Rockwell International Integrated Space Plan

In 1989, Rockwell International released a poster-sized chart that summarized a flow of advancements and accomplishments--predictions really--that would evolve the human race from its terrestrial basis and infrequent probings into space, into a race that was based on several bodies in the solar system and traveling at speeds that--well you get the idea. The timeframe? 50 years. A copy of this flow chart is on display at the Proteus Gowanus Gallery (543 Union Street, Brooklyn NY). I had the pleasure of seeing it on the way into the Sigils and Signs show in the Observatory room, and intrigued, I took some photos of this plan. Was this "integrated space plan" still on schedule? How were doing as a species? 1989 - 2012. How accurately had Rockwell mapped our journey into space?

I love how the chart reveals ambition and imbues that ambition with soaring positivist energy.  It's progress not just for Rockwell, but clearly for the human race. This chart basically maps our evolution as a species. Even for an aerospace company (the company is no-more), Rockwell couldn't have designed all of the technologies on this flow chart. The language of the chart reveals that Rockwell sees itself as part of a larger initiative to move humanity from Earth to the solar system--and the stars. The chart audaciously lays out the technologies and the time needed to do this, and the chart speaks firmly: "HUMAN CIVILIZATION EVOLVES TO EXPLORE EXTRATERRESTRIAL RESOURCES," "ROUTINE ACCESS TO SPACE ACHIEVED," "ECONOMIC AND INDUSTRIAL ACTIVITY INCREASE," "HUMAN EXPANSION INTO THE INNER SOLAR SYSTEM BEGINS," "HUMANITY COMMANDS UNLIMITED RESOURCES FROM THE MOON AND ASTEROIDS - UNLIMITED SAFE SOLAR ENERGY FOR EARTH," "GAIA PROLIFERATES," "HUMANITY BEGINS TRANSITION FROM A TERRESTRIAL TO A SOLAR SPECIES." These are the headings for large circles that encompass several accomplishments at certain periods along the timeline. It's inspiring. 

That inspiration is clearly there for a reason. Inspire people enough and funding starts to pour into the company with the clearest vision. Am I being cynical? Not really. The chart serves multiple purposes. Yes, it is designed to function similarly to a business plan, but it also serves to inspire. A little kitschy? Sure. Naked hubris? Pretty much. Too ambitious of a dream to achieve by 2043? Yes. But man, what an amazing dream.

Please excuse the poor quality of the photos. The timeline starts at the top of the poster and moves downward into the future. Thanks goes to artist Debra Tillinger for bringing this poster to light--I have been unable to track down another copy online or through my library's databases. Her marginalia is insightful, but I took few photos of the marginalia because I wanted to focus on the language and design of the plan itself.

As I mentioned, I have been unable to track this down electronically. However, I did find it referenced online in a bibliographic citation as

Jones, R. M., “Integrated Space Plan (Preliminary),” Rockwell International, PUB 3547-H, 1981.

 If you are searching for this poster, I hope this helps.

Reflections on an Exhibit of Literary Magazines

In April I wrote about “Inventing the Page: Student Literary Magazines at Drexel" over at drexelpublishing.org, and my point was simple: student literary magazines are worthwhile endeavors because they provide developing writers a serious place for experimentation. Sure, all writers experiment in their notebooks or on the blank screen, but a literary magazine raises the stakes and forces undergraduate writers to think about the audience flipping through the magazine, spending time reading their work. Learning to balance audience expectations with one's own goals is an important lesson for, well the truth is, all writers.

The show was also important because it demonstrated something unexpected about Drexel University. For over a century, Drexel has been known for its engineering and business programs; the surprise is that the school houses a significant population of students who spend their hours in the disciplines of writing and literature.

It's also popular and easy to see a student lit mag and think about immediacy--how student lit mags can suddenly appear and disappear so quickly. The library's exhibit reveals that student lit mags at Drexel have a long history. Bravo to archivist Robert Sieczkiewicz for imagining and coordinating this fantastic exhibit. From what I can recall, pieces selected for the exhibit were chosen by faculty: Martha Cornog, Valerie Fox, Karen Nulton, Miriam Kotzin, Rachel Wenrick, me, and students: Hannah Gittler, Marina Lamanna, Francesca Martelli, Zack Ssebatindira, Kerri Sullivan, and Tina Walsh.

Looking through years of student work to find a few poems that spoke to me was one of the coolest projects I worked on this year, and I will write about my specific experience selecting a poem in a future post. Work published and on display in the exhibit includes pieces by: Henrietta Cherry Quinn, H.E. Blank, Jr., David Focer, Daniel Dougherty, Michael Wadler, Alan D. Haverson, T. W. Page, J.B. Rossnick, Howard M. Benson, Vernon Waring, Karen Smith, Shinobi Kang, Ida Chi, Anthony Pirnot, Amanda Ngozi Adichie, Wadzanai Mhute, and Michael Long.

Hagerty Library has an article on the exhibit here. I've placed my amateur photos of the exhibit below. The exhibit's official opening also featured current students and faculty reading work from issues past. There's video of that reading, here; you can see Fox, Kotzin, Ssebatindira, and me read work we selected. Sieczkiewicz introduces the reading.

Notes

In May, my friend Dan Arp graduated from Georgetown with a Master of Science in Foreign Service. Considering international events over the last two years, it was quite a time to be studying in this discipline. The ceremony was uplifting and informative, and I was honored to be a guest.

We took the long way back to Philadelphia and wound up crossing the Susquehanna on Route 372, a rural part of Pennsylvania, just north of the Maryland line. We shared the road with plenty of horses and buggies as the Amish went to church or visited friends and family. As novel as it was to see that, it didn't hold water next to this sight: a phone booth. Quarryville, PA still has one. God bless Quarryville. The phone booth is on East State St. near the intersection with Route 472.

Press 1 Publishes This Guy You Might Know

I’m happy to report that Press 1 published two pieces of mine in its latest issue.

In the Press 1 Practicum section: “The Calmest Place You Know”
In the Poetry section: “Observations from the Pine Barrens 1”

After you’re done reading my work, check out the rest of the issue. The creative team behind Press 1 has built an impressive online journal here, and I’m honored to have my work accepted. Oh, and I can’t forget to mention Robert Anthony Watts’s hilariously dark satirical article “Break-away Faction of the Ku Klux Klan Endorses Obama for Re-election.” Seriously. That's just the title.

New Life for Forgotten Books at the Reanimation Library

This Library is such a cool idea. When in Brooklyn, schedule a visit to the Reanimation Library. This small but growing collection is the home for books that have been roundly forgotten and discarded by the world. There’s something sad and nostalgic about it (or a group of emotions cousin to these), something perfect for writers and artists to draw on as they create new works.

At the website, read the Overview and Philosophy on the About page, and read the latest entry from their blog “Word Processor.” Each entry is a highlight of a text in the collection written by a guest author. The latest entry by Corina Bardoff is a clever response to The Observer's Book of Weather with a creative reading approach inspired by the OuLiPo workshop. Madly informative--I loved it.

Some snapshots from my visit to the collection. Note the curse placed upon book thieves. Damn.

Chlorophyll Songwriter: An update to an earlier post about Sam Cusumano's music-playing philodendron

Back in late April, the < fidget > gallery in Philadelphia hosted Sam Cusumano and his latest project born out of the incubator that is Electricity for Progress. It was part of Philly Tech Week. There was excitement in the air. Enough excitement that his Philodendron seemed to respond to it! It was a cool exhibit.

 

The < fidget > gallery was noisy when I visited--Cusumano's exhibit was one of several sound related exhibits in the gallery that night. The lighting was also low, but that helped our brains to focus on auditory stimulus rather than visual. I still managed to record a few seconds of usable footage.  I titled the video Chlorophyl Songwriter--if that sounds stupid, blame me, not Cusumano.
 
This was actually the second time that Cusumano was displaying plants that could play music. The first time was a week earlier at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Megawords, the experimental media project organized by Anthony Smyrski and Dan Murphy, invited Data Garden to be part of a joint exhibit. Data Garden was a quartet of plants. You can listen to the music from the exhibit here, and Sam explains things here.

What I saw seemed simple enough: sensors measuring conductivity on the leaves of the Philodendron were connected to a tablet computer and synthesizer.  The tablet computer displayed the data coming in from the sensors. The synthesizer translated this data into sound. The complicated stuff--programming, recording, testing--probably had taken the past few weeks or months. Impressive.

The wild part was listening to the plant "at rest" for a few seconds, and then listening to the plant "responding." It was clear that simply standing very close to the plant (perhaps breathing on the leaves, or causing a gust of air to momentarily increase evaporation on the leaf surface) was enough to change the leaf conductivity and therefore the music. Two guys caused a dramatic effect when they ran their hands through the leaves for several seconds.

It was something pretty magical--music from the interaction of two very different species--and I hope Cusumano finds a way to create a more permanent exhibit somewhere I can visit. If not, I'll have to commission him to make one for me.

Poetry!

Leslie Anne McIlroy's 2008 book, Liquid Like This, arrived today. Can't wait to read it.

And. . .you're welcome, bn.com. Make sure that you divert some of those dollars I spent online to my local store, because--and call me old fashioned--I do actually shop there.

Repairing My Favorite Coffee Mug

A few months ago, the handle of my favorite coffee mug broke--for the third time. I love this mug. It keeps me company for almost all of my writing projects--certainly the ones I really care about.  This was the third break for the handle in nine years, and feeling a little depressed (and concerned with more important projects at the time), I put off repairing it until I had the time to do it right. That was January.

Friday afternoon, with a little time, a little sandpaper, and some krazy glue, I repaired the handle. I let it dry for twenty-four hours just to be safe. Sunday saw the first pour of coffee in that mug in over six months. I've been writing like a fiend ever since.

Thanks, PBS. You Reminded Me Why I Watch You

Last week, PBS had a good week. Frontline covered a team at West Philadelphia High School competing in an international contest to build an extremely fuel efficient automobile. Another great episode of many from Frontline that covers the state of education in the U.S. Try not to cry, I dare you.

History Detectives finds Bob Dylan's Electric Guitar from Newport, and (and this one is going out to friend and artist, Chuck Schneider) the show reminds us that Frank Zappa was more visually creative than we realize by researching a possible collage made by Zappa. From the way people discuss his composition style, I wonder if he wasn't a synesthete. Great show. Fans of music and contemporary history must watch.

Thanks, PBS. You, an internet connection, and a video cable from a computer to a television can allow many to remain cable free. Okay, I'm done advertising.

Fringe-ology on Radiolab

I read Fringe-ology last summer and loved it. From a google search, I saw that Amazon had it filed in New-age>Mysticism. Ugh. Steve Volk is a journalist, and the book is not something I would categorize as new-agey. I hit the Amazon site and wrote a review quickly. Although I couldn't change Amazon's wrong-headed category assignment, I could try to set the record straight in my review.  Here's an excerpt:

"Volk writes in the best tradition of journalists who, in tracking down a story, wind-up creating a captivating book. Less than a chapter in, I was all too happy to realize that Volk's work reminds me of Lee Gutkind, Mary Roach, Jon Ronson, and David Gann--authors for whom an initial question leads to a book full of answers (and more questions)."

Imagine how pleased I was to hear him on a recent episode of Radiolab that also featured Mary Roach.

Volk's book is also available in paper and electronically.

My current favorite literary magazine is twenty cards in an envelope.

Literally. It's called Kindling. It just had its fifth issue. You can find out more at their cool website. I recommend this issue because it includes a very funny (and gross) poem by my friend Lydia Pyne.


I love this format for a literary magazine. It opens up novel possibilities for collection and storage--and trading! Pieces appear on one side of the card, author bios on the flip-side. The table of contents is printed on the envelope in which the cards are shipped.

Judicial Decisions

The supreme court had an exciting year, and reflecting on it made me think of this article in Drexel University's research magazine, Exel. In the article, Mike Unger discusses research conducted by Adam Benforado and Geoffrey Goodwin. According to Unger their work looks at the intersection of law--especially justice--at the intersection of "cognition, moral psychology and implicit social cognition." I was most distressed by the following:

“Consider our common sense assumptions about judges. We have an idea that there are two kinds of judges in the world: umpires, who just call balls and strikes, and activists, people with agendas. In the book, I unpack evidence from the mind sciences to see if this
conception is accurate. And it turns out, it’s not.”

“All judges are susceptive to various cognitive biases and processes operating beyond their conscious awareness that may sway them one way or another. Little things like the time of day when a judge hears a parole case may have a huge influence,” Benforado adds. “Researchers, for example, recently looked at over a thousand parole decisions and found that first thing in the morning the chance of parole was around 65 percent, but that it dropped to around 0 percent right before a break for a meal. After the break, it shot back up to about 67 percent. That’s not the idea of how our legal system works. No one thinks it happens, or should happen, but when you actually look at the evidence it turns out that these sources of unfairness are having a big impact.”

Scary stuff, huh? I am comforted that, at the least, we now have data upon which to start construcing a solution.

Remembering Bailey Adams

Drexel's student-run paper, the Triangle, ran a nice article in early June that records the depth and breadth to which Bailey Adams touched those around her. Her death on May 22, rocked--I think it's safe to say--everyone who knew her. A memorial at World Cafe Live hosted by the College of Arts and Sciences, where Bailey worked, was attended by family and friends from across the country. While the largest digital record of Bailey's life resides on her Facebook page (a huge thank-you to her friends and family for that), I write this piece here to add one more place where someone, even a stranger, might stumble across her name and encounter a reflection on how special Bailey was--how much her life meant and will mean.

The first time I had a long conversation with Bailey was the summer of 2011. I was promoting an art exhibit I was working on; I wanted to keep the Dean's office informed. Bailey listened to my long-winded description with smiles and questions, and a few weeks later we even had lunch together. She made me laugh. She made me feel relaxed. She simply helped me to have fun at work. At Drexel events we would always chat, and I was honored when she asked me to help think of her roller derby name (One sleepless Saturday night, I finally completed the project. I write about that experience here and here). I would have done anything Bailey asked--simultaneously she could make me feel valued, charming, and disarmed all within moments of seeing her.

Bailey improved the world around her. She made life better for me, and I saw how she made it better for others (the triangle article does a good job of showing this). This past Saturday the 21st, I attended a roller derby event in her memory. A squadron of fleet-footed individuals not participating in the matches manned several tables raising money for various causes Bailey had supported. It was wonderful to see her spirit live on in this activity. She was important. Look, yes, part of me recoils at the idea of judging a life, but part of me knows that's why I responded to Bailey. She made the world a better place. She added to the sum total of positive energy in the world. When a life like that ends, a sense of cosmic measurement appears for me--injustice even. Then Regret comes knocking. So does Melancholy.

I'm mostly over the sense of injustice these days, and the other feelings also fade. What remains is this: the warm feelings. The roller derby match helped me to see that she inspired the better nature in everyone around her. I was one of many who loved my time with Bailey, and thoughts of her will continue to comfort and inspire me for years to come.

Thanks to Stephanie Zepkowski for posting the above photo on Bailey's Facebook wall.

Progress

Yes, I read my alma mater's alumni magazine. And, every now and then, I encounter something that makes me proud. July's "Last Word" column was written by Timothy Haggerty, and it is a moving reflection on one person's academic relationship to the struggles in the LGBT community over the last two decades. From the column:

Greyer and older and now on the faculty, I am occasionally reminded that my first-year students were born at the same time I began researching sexual orientation and military service. According to recent polling data, approximately three-quarters of college students support gay marriage and an even higher proportion support gay and lesbian rights more generally. The final indicator of transformation might very well be irrelevance: my students readily discount assumptions regarding sexual orientation and judge their classmates by their characters. For me, it’s satisfying enough to think that these issues may soon become history.

As someone with a few friends in the LGBT community, do I think we're almost there? Not quite. I may be a progressive, but I can also be a pessimist sometimes. But, Haggerty reminds me that we're making progress.

News about the Best Monthly Comic Book Series Ever

I knew that I read Phantsmaphile for a reason! I didn't get a chance to follow the goings-on at Comic-Con as much as I wanted to, but thankfully there's phantsmaphile to keep me informed. Phansmaphile reports on the next Sandman book coming out and reminds readers of an interview it conducted last year with the artist for this up-coming project, JH Williams III. (Neil Gaiman's--Sandman's creator--is writing it.)

I started collecting Sandman comics as a hyperactive fourteen-year-old at the recommendation of my friend Chris Wieman--best recommendation ever. Drawing on a wide range of knowledge about literature, and themes religious, spiritual, and mythic, Gaiman created complex characters and stories--every month--for years. I tried to buy every issue the day it came out. My young brain didn't always understand the complexities in each issue on the first read, but I knew enough to respect a comic book I had to read two or three times to understand. It influenced the way I wrote--the way I constructed stories and poems.

Truth be told, I purchased a lot of comic books every month in my teenage years, and as a young man when I needed some funds, I decided to sell that comic-book collection. Sold the whole thing. Except for Sandman. The title is a milestone in comic history, lauded by those who read comics regularly--and those who don't.

The monthly series ended years over fifteen years ago, but it remains in publication as graphic novel volumes that span story arcs. I came into Sandman at issue 21, the beginning of the "Season of Mists" eight-issue story-line. You can purchase it at amazon.com (Sandman Volume 4). After "Season of Mists," I started working my way backward and forward through the series. With this prequel to the series coming out next year, it seems Gaiman is too.

If money can't buy happiness, I guess I'll have to rent it.

Elizabeth Dunn, associate professor of psychology at the University of British Columbia, has been in the news recently for her work on happiness. In a recent opinion piece in the New York Times, she reminds her readers of research that connects greater feelings of satisfaction from the purchase of experiences rather than things--and from helping others. I've always felt this. It's nice to see research specifics. I hope these ideas continue to get press--Daniel Gilbert's great book, Stumbling on Happiness didn't get nearly the press it deserved. That said, I did hear him on the Ted Radio Hour episode "Our Buggy Brain." While you're there, be sure to look up the other relevant episode, "The Pursuit of Happiness."

Even Vanguard touts her work (not too surprising actually, when one realizes that founder and retired CEO, John C. Bogle's recent book is titled Enough: True Measures of Money, Business, and Life). I like "Five Ways to Enjoy Your Money More" for its straightforward advice.

That said, Dunn, Gilbert and Schwartz are not "self-help" gurus offering mantras to make people feel better. These are researchers whose experiments may actually reveal fairly depressing things about the ways we think and behave--but at least we'll understand why we're miserable.

The title of this post comes from a Weird Al Yankovic song, "This is the Life."

Just thought you should know.

Marketing a Feeling of the Genuine

I think too much about marketing. I shouldn't, but when it's in my face so often, my only defense is a critical mind. I am forced to--and I'm thinking about the Greek root krit/crit here--separate, choose. So, in one corner we have the marketing efforts of a health care organization encouraging me to sign-up for its online portal. The advantages for them being that if I can check my own records, the organization may not have to employ as many people. Nothing new there--companies have been downsizing customer service departments for years--helping us service ourselves. Our time. Their money. What is new (at least to me) is that one might be thrilled--look at the huge smile on her face--thrilled to examine one's medical records. "Well, shucks!" She seems to be saying, "I guess it wasn't that serious!" There are at a least a dozen other dispositions that a human could wear that would encourage me to see the benefits of signing up for this program. Reserved-amusement (that's what I would call her look) is not one of them. I think I've seen this same photo used to sell a hundred other online experiences.

The other corner harbors our champ for the day: Dollar Shave Club. This company already struck marketing gold with its hilarious, low-budget commercial that mixes equal parts sincerity, weirdness, and punch-lines ("Looking good, Pop-pop!").  So, yes, I'm now a member of DSC (the deal was good, and the blades work for me). I wasn't alone in joining. Over the past few months, the company was swamped with new clients and orders were delayed. Apologies and explanations went out. That was good. What was even better was my latest shipment. In my latest package of razors, DSC included a postcard that put a human-touch on the business. See the graphic below. Look, I know the angle the organization is playing: "See customer? We're just a bunch a folks working hard to keep you happy." But it feels genuine. It's difficult to create that feeling in marketing. It's rare to see it work, but for me--here--it does. The marketing helps me to feel more satisfaction and loyalty to the product. All it took was a well-designed postcard. I would even go so far as to suggest that, in making up for earlier delays, given the option between sending additional razors or including this postcards, the postcard would create stronger feelings of feelings of satisfaction and loyalty for customers than extra product. I wonder if there's research on this.

Nothing is more real than fake wood paneling.

Nice Day for a Bike Ride in VA

Now to find the Emporer of Ice Cream. .
.

Unstructions

What a disappointment to discover a rich, wonderful typo only to have the internet say, "That's not new."

Mistakes

Two strangers In the trolley seat across the aisle from me discovered a plastic grocery bag of various discount panties on the floor. They discussed them. Now they are engaged in small talk.

If I suspect this is the beginning of a con on me and the other passengers, am I paranoid?

New work!

I am happy to report that I had a poem accepted--more details when it's officially published. The poem is related to Dave Kessler's New Jersey Pine Barrens project, but that's all I'm saying for now.

Sigils and Signs Opening at the Observatory

I just arrived at the Sigils and Signs Exhibit, and it is wonderful. Here's one quick photo. It was difficult to take a shot--a lot of visitors already here.

So Long, Privacy!

Here's a screenshot of me coasting along on the Norristown High Speed Line--thanks to Google Latitude.

Anyone want to join Latitude with me? We can track each other! What fun!

For a day or so.

I like this book.

I know I should be using goodreads or pinterest or some other such thing to praise this book, but I don't feel like it this afternoon.

It was recommended to me by a dear friend, and it's become a crucial part of a composition course I teach. Edited by Molly Peacock, The Private I: Privacy in a Public World is a collection of essays about privacy by fiction writers, poets, and memoir writers. Graywolf Press published it (of course). Amazon will sell it to you, but so will Powells.com.

Making Plans for Next Friday Night? How about going to Brooklyn?

Pam Grossman curates what looks to be a very cool exhibit at the Observatory on Friday night: Sigils and Signs. The featured "artists explore what is means to be a magician in the modern age: to emblazon sigils upon the energy field; to make magic marks."
 
Grossman created Phantasmaphile, a visual and informational meal of art eerie and wonderful. Perhaps the site "specializes in art and culture with an esoteric or fantastical bent," but I like focusing on the eerie stuff.

Here's a teaser from the exhibit website:

. . . artists who, quite literally, created spells via drawings on the floor, scrawls in books, lines cut into wood or stone.  Though the featured players of this story are often English magicians from John Dee to Austin Osman Spare to Alan Moore, symbol-based magic can be traced back through the ages and across cultures.  Germanic runes were carved. . .

Fascinated? Me too. The exhibit runs through June 17th.

Plants Play Music at Philly Tech Week

I'm excited to check out Performing With Technology as part of Philly's Tech Week.

From Sam Cusumano:

Beginning at 5p Electricity for Progress will present a series of interactive exhibitions, each meant to educate and inspire the audience. For Philly Tech Week 2012, we will be deploying: Circuit Bent toys (Casio sk-1, Elmo Driver, Cookie Monster, Yodeling pickle, toot-a-loop am radio) and our latest display from Data Garden - an electronic duet between a philodendron and interacting guests .

An electronic duet between a philodendron and guests?!? Cool.


Where: .1714 North Mascher Street, Philadelphia PA.

When: 4/23/2012
5PM-6:30PM : Demo/Installation/Workshop (FREE)
6:30PM-8PM : Concert (FREE)

Adam Vidiksis - music with pots, pans, and computer
Gemini Wolf - electronic music with video
Coleman/Sato/Nakamura Trio - clarinet, show, no-input mixer
Mauri Walton - dance, video
Megan Bridge & Peter Price - dance, electronic music
Rolf LakaemPer - sound installation & music with kinect
Sam Cusumano - modified toys and synthesizers

There's more info on Facebook:

Begone, Worries!

This makes me feel better.