As some of you know, in November of last year I began composing a series of Winter Poems. These were originally spurred by a trip to Reykjavík, Iceland, where I performed solo, at a small venue called Mengi. They have grown from there into a chapbook that I am happy to announce the release of. First of all, thank you to Skúli Sverisson and Ólöf Arnalds for hosting and inspiring me in Iceland, and to my partner Jade Wollin, and my father Robert Cardinaux, who have both been a marvelous help in fine-tuning these bits of verse. The book is dedicated to Skúli and Ólöf, both musicians whose music helped lay the foundation for the poetry within. Winter Poems is also dedicated in part to the memory of Olle Kruijt, a friend who commissioned a poem last year whom I found out passed away suddenly, before I could send it.
The chapbook releases officially on February 11th through my press and label, The Bodily Press, and will be available then to order online through my Bandcamp page in physical format only.
In 2016 I was living in Boston after graduating New England Conservatory. The world I believed I belonged to was like American English, in that it only accounted for that within earshot, and although I listened, I could never hear the sound of bells that rang outside its walls – that which was too far to hear unless there was a breeze. Hence, I felt guarded against all that was in my periphery. And so I naturally knew to become just that: the sidelong glance of a thief, a strand of poetry abandoned by a world leader after it became too much to wrestle with. I hid like the outline of writing on the layer of paper underneath the page that is torn off the pad. All it would take was to rub the flat end of a pencil across my spirit to reveal me. Nonetheless, I focused my intention like the eye-patch of a horse that is all but blind, and I waited for silence: a particular silence, accompanied by the sound that is left in one’s ears as someone hangs up the phone having been the bearer of bad news. Read the rest of this entry »
As some of you know, I have decided to pack my bags, and take leave of the city of Boston, where I have lived for the past four years. As I prepare to move out to the rural countryside of Western Massacusetts, again, I am finally gaining some much needed perspective on my life during my time here. There is evidence of that fact.
All three photos in this post are by Monica Frisell. Unfortunately, the timeline offered to me to complete this project did not allow for me to include more of Monica’s photos. More to come in the future though, as we hope to collaborate on something, eventually. I personally admire her work a lot. Hope you do to. Enjoy.
In his book of essays, A Nomad Poetics, Pierre Joris writes of the necessity for poets not only to learn other languages, but to invent them. If it is possible to invent one’s own language, I have tried. It may as well follow that it is possible to learn—to write, indeed, even to speak in—those languages that others have invented. Read the rest of this entry »