Category: Asheville

Pineda, poetry and thoughts about small press publishing

Really enjoyed the reading by Jon Pineda last week. (I would have written about it earlier, but I had a cantankerous iBook that refused to operate to my satisfaction. Thus delaying this post until today.) Being half Pinoy (or Filipino), Pineda explores themes common to those who have been removed from their heritage. He is now discovering it through poetry. The book’s epigraph sums up his theme: “It’s what always begins/In half dark, in half light” — José Gracia Villa.

He read exclusively from his award-winning book, Birthmark. Poems read included, “Matamis,” “Wrestling,” “Arboretum,” “Night Feeding,” “Birthmark,” and others.

The poem “Wrestling” still haunts me:
“At our first match, I wrestled a guy/I had met summers ago at a Filipino gathering, … a few of the boys pinned my shoulders against a tree//while one punched me.”

“I watched the clock as I locked a breath inside his throat.”

I wanted to buy a copy of Birthmark that night but I only had $6 in my pocket and the cover price was $14.95. This displeased me greatly for I wanted a signed copy of Jon Pineda’s book. Why is it that poets cannot afford poetry books? After working on a book project for the last six months, I know that the book (most likely) costs less than $4 to manufacture. This is not the poet’s fault. I recently bought two books at another reading (which is probably why I only had $6 left). One book was a 275-page hard cover book for $18.50 while the other book was a 57-page soft cover book for $16.95. The poetry book was the skinny, expensive book.

Maybe that’s why readers don’t read as much poetry–there’s not much to read for 17 bucks. Forgive me again. This is not the poet’s decision. I understand why this happens. Poetry publishers supposedly schedule small press runs–maybe 500 to 3000 copies per printing. With those quantities, the book production costs range from $3 to $6 per copy–possibly higher. Add mark-up for retail distribution and the cover price is logically $16.95 per copy.

I’d like to challenge that system. If poetry publishers offered a subscription based books program (i.e. an annual subscription offering three to four books), then they could print with more efficiency and pass the savings to readers. As it is currently, poetry publishers risk a lot and have to build that risk into the cover price. For example, if an independant small press offers a poetry book subscription of $39.95 for their annual series of four books, then they could operate with less risk due to the fact that they have a defined audience (i.e. subscribers) rather than a hopeful audience (i.e. retail outlets).

Reflections of paint from a poetry reading

I’m not sure what to say about tonight’s event. Seven and a half pages in my notebook filled with observations and thoughts of the reading. Though I haven’t the energy to type it all tonight, I’ll post details of the event later.

One thing, of many, did strike me this cool, blue Spring evening. I sat in an old wooden folding chair next to a wall lined with photos by Hazel Larsen Archer. Portraits of Josef and Anni Albers looked over my shoulder. A photo of Josef Albers teaching class displays students’ compositions scattered in the foreground. I know exactly what they are doing because my university art professor, a student of Albers, had his students apply gouche to panel and board in order to create swatches of tint and shade in the same manner. I spent hours painting a dozen variations of blue evenly representing shade to tint (i.e. dark blue to light blue). A whole semester was spent on Albers color theory and related understanding of color.

I examined the students in the photo carefully trying to identify my university art professor Emery Bopp. But I forgot, at the time, that he studied under Albers at Yale not Black Mountain College. Still, I see Josef Albers in that portrait and there is a representative of Bauhaus style. His intensity of gaze from a vintage gelatin silver print hauntingly reminds me of a loose connection to him through my art professor and the hours spent mixing, applying and peeling paint from my fingers. In a physical way, the smell of gouche and the feel of mixing it in trays is that connection to a soft spoken professor, Emery Bopp. And I wonder if he learned his teaching approach from Josef Albers.

Notes from last night’s Fresh Air Reading Series

Last night was my first time attending the Fresh Air Reading Series at the New French Bar

As always, I had my composition book with me and wrote the following notes during the readings:

Mara Simmons–her series of poems reflect a serious study of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict. Each poem exhibits much research and passion … bringing humanity to news stories which desensitize Americans. The theme is well born out through references in Hebrew and Arabic and native plants and streets. Really inspired by her theme-based poems.

Jeff Davis–the elder poet with long gray hair and soft voice at time almost a whisper … brings a melancholy maturity to the round-robin reading. He offers love poems and poems heavy with nostalgia … he is taller than the other poets and needs to re-adjust the microphone and still he leans down into the foam covered device as if praying … his water poems are most excellent.

Kathy Godfrey–a bawdy poet with spunky, sensual, sensational poems. From what I overheard among the crowd, she teaches poetry at ABTech and many in the audience were her students … ethical question … should a teacher read a graphic poem about masturbation in front of her students … among other poetic subjects include green beans, Tough Man contests

Autumn Choi–slam poet … holds her own … confessional style presentation. Sort of romanticizes the school-of-hard-knocks subject matters … works well in this vehicle of drama.

I left immediately after the readings. I guess that was a bit impolite on my part for several people were in attendance that I knew. But I needed to get away–to think. I walked for several blocks pondering the poems and poets I heard Wednesday night. Why do I write what I write? Do I have what it takes to write poetry on the level of these local poets? Do I have the commitment to follow through with what I’ve started? Or am I merely dabbling in something, which I should leave to professional wordsmiths?

Some of this wondering is directly related to last weekend’s event. Saturday afternoon I found myself at Barley’s sitting across the from a local writer who has received well-deserved accolades for her work. Other local poets were in attendance with comparable merit and distinction. And there was me feeling very much like an outsider or poser.

After reading last night’s notes again at morning light it is apparent that I am partial to poems with academic/intellectual substance. Not to disqualify the other poets mind you. Annie Dillard writes: “The writer … is careful of what he learns, because that is what he will know.” I know what kind of poetry I want to produce. So, I favor and enjoy hearing from poets who seem to exhibit attributes of what I’d like to write in verse.

Flasheville

Flash fiction + Asheville = Flasheville.com

Flasheville published “Another Empty Glass” over the weekend.

The World’s Fastest Readings

Just got back from the world’s “second fastest reading” (according to Peter Turchi) at Malaprop’s. Twelve MFA faculty members from Warren Wilson College read from their published work. Each member was given roughly three and half minutes to read.

Last year I attended the first Warren Wilson MFA faculty reading [read here and here.]. This year they scaled it back a bit; from 18 to 12 readers.

WLOS had a camera crew filming portions of the event. I guess Asheville residents may see it on channel 13 tonight (I don’t own a television so I’ll check AshVegas’ blog to see if it was even aired).

Overall it was a good event. I must confess the first reader, whom I cannot recall, didn’t attract my attention and my adult ADD kicked in and I started writing stream of consciously in my notebook. Adria Bernardi read an excerpt from her novel which brought me back to the event and Justin Grotz delivered a fine reading of fiction as well as Peter Turchi.

Somehow the poets didn’t quite do it for me tonight. Maybe I’m overly critical of poets. Maybe the poets didn’t want to be there tonight. However, the second to the last reader, Steve Orlen, read a single poem that worked; and worked well.

After the event, I chatted with a gentleman who hosts Malaprop’s Blind Date with Poetry. He also happens to be one of the members of Eye For An Iris Press. With all the celebrated and award winning poets and writers gathered at Malaprop’s, I spent the most time conversing with this gentleman.

There’s something that has been preventing me from completing my application for the MFA program at Warren Wilson College. I thought it was simply intimidation, but I think it goes deeper than that. I can’t put my finger on it right now, but I intend to explore it later.

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Warren Wilson MFA faculty Public Readings

The MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College Public Schedule
Readings will begin at 8:15 pm in the Fellowship Hall behind the Chapel unless indicated otherwise.

READINGS – 8:15 pm
by MFA faculty and graduating students

Friday, January 6
Marianne Boruch, Peter Turchi, Mary Leader

Saturday, January 7
No readings on campus, but come to “The World’s Fastest Readings” by MFA faculty at Malaprop’s, 55 Haywood Street. Reception at 5:30 pm; readings start at 6:00 pm.

Sunday, January 8
Rick Barot, Wilton Barnhardt, Karen Brennan, Antonya Nelson, Eleanor Wilner

Monday, January 9
Brooks Haxton, C.J. Hribal, Martha Rhodes, Kevin Mcllvoy, Ellen Bryant Voigt

Tuesday, January 10
First night of graduating student readings: Scott Gould, Sandra Nadazdin, Tatjana Soli,
Rosalynde Vas Dias

Rapid River publishes another poem

With all the holiday hub-bub, I almost forgot to mention that local arts magazine Rapid River published my poem, “Abstract Painting in Blue,” in the December issue. It’s a short poem in a series of poems I’ve been writing on the topic of art theory as explained through the life of an artist.

Christmas Eve at Westville Pub

There are these ads from True that keep populating my Hotmail page when I go to check email. In most cases I just ignore them because I’m checking emails not reading ads. But today I actually glanced at one and remembered how lonely it can be for single adults during the holidays.

A friend of mine sent me an email this week to let me know his band was playing at Westville Pub on Christmas Eve. The band is Gypsy Bandwagon and “wanted to do something for the folks that have nowhere else to go for the Holiday.” I can’t think of a better place to be on Christmas Eve.

I came up with a Web banner ad to replace the ubiquitious True ads:

The show starts at 8:00PM and is free to the public. Gypsy Bandwagon is an “Eastern European Pre Post-Modernist Folk Revivalist kind of thang.” Should be a good show. Maybe I’ll see you there. Cheers! Egg nog! and all that ho-ho Merry Christmas goodness!

Keep warm with The Traveling Bonfires

The Traveling Bonfires invade The Grey Eagle:
Vanessa Boyd, Dashvara, Sunshine, Crooked Routes, Deborah Crooks, Hippie Shitzu, and FL singer/songwriter SJ Tucker.

Show starts at 6pm. $5 Cover charge.

Kapila Ushana will emcee the event. Courtyard Gallery will exhibit their work during the show.

The Asheville Citizen-Times interviewed Vanessa Boyd about her involvement with The Traveling Bonfires.

THE INDIE, November 2005

The November issue of The Indie hit the streets last week.

BANNER STORY/HEADERS:
– “A Parking Snarl On Battle Square” by Michael Hopping
– “Human Needs Coalition Fights GOP Budget Attack” by Tim Wheeler/People’s World Weekly.

REVIEWS & INTERVIEWS:
– “The Year of Magical Thinking” (book review) by Michael Hopping
– “Writing and the World of the Library: An Interview with Umberto Eco” by Gaither Stewart.

COLUMNS:
– “Like a Rolling Stone: The Spirit of the Bonfire” by Pasckie Pascua
– “Writing, Painting and Thoughts about Spirituality from a Coffeehouse Junkie” by Matthew Mulder
– “Letters from Rome: The Greeks and Us” by Gaither Stewart

Plus much more…

To obtain FREE copies of the October issue…
go to The Indie website.
or write:

The Indie
70 Woodfin Place, Suite 01
Asheville NC 28801

Writers at Home Series

Yesterday afternoon I attended a Writers at Home Series which featured Marc Fitten, editor, of the The Chattahoochee Review at Malaprop’s Bookstore/Café.

Most of the audience in the cafe consisted of poets and writers seeking information from a benevolent editor who accepts or rejects submissions to a literary publication at his good pleasure. Sadly, most the questions were predictable. Any writer who desires to be published in a literary journal and asks questions like, “Should I call the editor to check on the status of a submission?” obviously has not done enough research in the field. Other fatuous questions include:
“What are you looking for in a manuscript?”
“What turns you off when reading a short story or essay?”

Puerile questions about writers wanting… no… lusting to be published almost drove me from the Café. You might as well tell the editor: “Sleep with me… I’ll bear your children… I’ll do anything… just publish my short fiction for the love of God.”

I sighed, doodled in my notebook and then the gracious Director of the Great Smokies Writing Program asked Marc Fitten to describe the life a manuscript once it makes it to the literary journal’s mail box. I listened.

I listened because Marc Fitten opened my eyes to the possibility that an editor of a literary journal might have a very rewarding job. The dream of all poets and writers is to get published, but another take on that dream is to publish a poet or writer of significance.

After the presentation, I told Marc I was almost persuaded to abandon writing and pursue publishing. With amiable fashion he smiled and said, “Yeah, it’s great.”

New Traveling Bonfires posters

Finally, I’m finished with the posters I’ve been working on over the last couple weeks. The posters are for The Traveling Bonfires which is a non-profit organization that roams “the country, instigating arts and music events, bringing people together for global peace and multicultural community connectedness.” Each poster features a photo I took in Downtown Asheville.

Here’s a list of the events these posters promote:

November 18
5pm to 2am
The Grey Eagle, Asheville NC. Door, $5.
A Traveling Bonfires/ Third World Asheville benefit show.
Featuring: Vanessa Boyd, Crooked Routes, Dashvara, Sunshine, Phuncle Sam and guests from San Francisco, CA; Deborah Crooks and Mica Lee Williams.

December 3
5pm to 2am.
The Grey Eagle, Asheville NC. Door, $5.
A Traveling Bonfires / Third World Asheville benefit show.
Featuring: Laura Blackley, Mississippi Cactus (touring from Milwaukee MI), Vanessa Boyd, Patty Keough (touring from Boston) and Phuncle Sam.

The performing artists will love you for it. The Traveling Bonfires will love you for it. I’ll love you for it! Don’t forget to go to the shows to hear great live music. What else could you ask for?

For the performing artists contributing to these gigs… Both posters are available for purchase if you wish to have a more professional quality presentation. Not that guerilla marketing with color copies is a bad thing, but I know you want to wow your fans to The Grey Eagle shows.

I can arrange a short-run printing, but I need your orders by October 15th. Each full-color poster measures 11″ x 17″ and prints on 100lb. gloss cover stock with UV coating (sure beats the copy shop laser color copies). Minimum order of 5 posters.

Poetry, painting and other thoughts

Last year, about this time, I contributed to “Resonance” Art Opening/Multimedia Performance. The Grey Eagle Tavern and Music Hall hosted the event. I read some of my new poems at the time and then Philip (guitarist) and Julie (rock vocalist) joined me with a music/performance set based on my book Late Night Writing. Julie contributed an original song to the set while Philip added an original soundtrack. The collaboration between the three of us was inspiring (to me at least). It was kind of weird hearing Julie sing my poems “Fragile” and “Driftwood” back to me and to the audience. In a way it was a relief to hear someone else claim them, own the words, project the ideas. I miss that. There are a few live bootleg recordings of the three or four gigs we did together. Maybe when I find some server space, I’ll offer them as free downloads.

Three paintings represented me at “Resonance” Art Opening/Multimedia Performance. “Fragile,” named after the poem I wrote, was painted last summer. Previously, I had done a series of four paintings inspired by the poet Kahlil Gibran (which was part of the 2003 “Resonance” art show) with bright, dramatic abstractions using a simple palette of red, yellow and black. With “Fragile,” the colors deepened in order to create a stark, lyrical image. A young poet from South Carolina once confessed he didn’t particularly get into modern art, but he liked “Fragile” because it seemed like a place he would like to visit. The poem I wrote that inspires this work includes these lines: “I am naked/ When truth strips me/ Of a lie.” And later: “I am reborn/ When the old shattered remains/ swept away, replaced with/ a new vessel to contain my soul.”

“Among The Myrtle,” named after a passage from the book of Zechariah, was also painted last summer. Most people who view this painting don’t know the passage that inspires this work. The passage reads:
“In a vision during the night, I saw a man sitting on a red horse that was standing among some myrtle trees in a small valley… I asked the angel who was talking with me, ‘My lord, what are all those horses for?’ ‘I will show you,’ the angel replied. So the man standing among the myrtle trees explained, ‘They are the ones the LORD has sent out to patrol the earth.’ Then the other riders reported to the angel of the LORD, who was standing among the myrtle trees, ‘We have patrolled the earth, and the whole earth is at peace.’

Again, as with the painting “Fragile,” I attempt to present a sparse place for the eye and the mind to roam–a place someone would like to sit and rest and visit often. In a way, I was trying to create a sanctuary were “the whole earth is at peace.”

My son, who was two at the time, painted along side me. We would paint outside, on the front deck on Saturday mornings. It became a weekend ritual. At the time he merely enjoyed mixing the colors on an old canvas I had forsaken. He named one dinosaur and the next weekend he would paint over dinosaur and call it puppy. During the winter we stopped the outdoor painting sessions and he began working with pencil and paper. By springtime he graduated to markers. As spring gave way to summer he had developed a curious visual language that inspired me. He began drawing people with arms and legs that didn’t quite fit and dots and lines representing eyes. The smile became his creative signature–it sliced across the heads as if to say “it is what it is.”

One Saturday, after we resumed our painting ritual, I created “I’m Putting on My Socks” in honor of his drawings. Three other paintings were created that day (which I may post at a later date) and a series of twelve drawings. He told me I needed more gray. I told him gray was not a color I liked to use because it’s too bland. He insisted by adding a few strokes of his own. After moving him back to his canvas, I conceded. Gray became the visual language that supported the red, black, copper and white motifs.

I don’t know if there will be a “Resonance” Art Performance this year. Whether collaborating with adults or children, an artist needs support in order to grow. Hearing a poem or viewing a painting from another perspective opens up a world of opportunity. Irving Stone mused that “Art’s a staple. Like bread or wine or a warm coat in winter… Man’s spirit grows hungry for art in the same way his stomach growls for food.” For those who have supported my growling stomach, I thank you.

THE INDIE, September 2005

The September issue of The Indie hit the streets over the weekend including banner story by Michael Hopping, “Your Land is Our Land” and an interview with star of Rosetta’s Kitchen… Rosetta Star Rzany.

The Indie’s September issue also includes three pieces by me: “Confessions of a Coffeehouse Junkie,” “Books & Desktop Icons,” and “Review: Simic’s poem ‘Old Soldier’.”

To obtain FREE copies of the September issue…
go to The Indie website.
or write:

The Indie
70 Woodfin Place, Suite 01
Asheville NC 28801

Mountain Xpress: Feature Story about Asheville Bloggers

This week’s Mountain Xpress ran a cover story about the local blogosphere. Screwy Hoolie, Edgy Mama, Modern Peasant, 1000 Black Lines, DEMbloggers and nine other bloggers were mentioned.

The story, Something To Blog About, is a good overview of the Asheville blogosphere, but (as always) the newspaper sends you to the blogs for the rest of the story.

The article reads:

Looking at 1000 Black Lines, the first impression you may get is that of an old photocopied ‘zine gone 21st century. Poems, essays, random journal entries, images and links to curious items of interest artfully litter the site.

So as not to give the wrong impression, the article was not about 1000 Black Lines. It was about Asheville’s community of bloggers. But this coffeehouse junkie does enjoy the perception of an artfully littered new media ‘zine.

Bonfires at Pritchard Park

I designed for The Traveling Bonfires.

Bonfires for Peace at Pritchard Park

Saturday, Aug 6, 2005
3pm to 10pm
Downtown Asheville, NC

Featuring:
Dashvara, Large Lewis, Phuncle Sam, Sunshine

Another BlogAsheville Meetup

Wired. That’s the best way to describe it. I’m drinking Good Earth decaffeinated chai in hopes it will help me wind down a bit.

Over two hours ago I enjoyed yet another BlogAsheville1 meeting. This time it was in regards to an interview with a Mountain Xpress writer who is composing a story about the local blogosphere.

Screwy Hoolie,2 Edgy Mama3 and Modern Peasant4 were there answering questions and just having an all around good time discussing blogging and other related (or unrelated) topics. DEMbloggers5 made a showing later in the evening with much to discuss regarding blogging and politics. Seems like each of us Asheville bloggers had much to talk about and thouroughly enjoyed each others company. I’d go into detail about the conversations but I’ll let you follow the links and find out for yourselves.

It’s 5 o’clock GMT… the chai is gone… I’m listening to the BBC news on NPR…

NOTES:
1) BlogAsheville, August 4, 2005, blogasheville.blogspot.com, accessed June 17, 2026, http://blogasheville.blogspot.com/2005/08/what-are-you-doing-tonight.html (page no longer available, web site deactivated)
2) Screwy Hoolie, August 4, 2005, scrutinyhooligans.blogspot.com, accessed June 17, 2026, http://scrutinyhooligans.blogspot.com/ (page no longer available, web site deactivated)
3) Edgy Mama, August 4, 2005, edgymama.com, accessed June 17, 2026, http://edgymama.com/ (page no longer available, web site deactivated)
4) Modern Peasant, August 4, 2005, modernpeasant.com, accessed June 17, 2026, http://modernpeasant.com/ (page no longer available)
5) DEMbloggers, August 4, 2005, http://www.dembloggers.com, accessed June 17, 2026, http://www.dembloggers.com/ (page no longer available, web site deactivated)

Beanstreet’s Open Mic Night

It was a steamy night in Asheville as I headed to Beanstreet’s open mic. The coffee house was hotter than outside which seemed perfect for a congregation of creative energy. Even though sweat ran down my forehead and into my eyes, I ordered a cup of java and renewed friendships with kindred spirits. I listened to young man rip up his guitar with infectious blues rock tunes and another sing ballads but the performance that inspired a poem was a didge (didgeridoo) duet. You got a love didge players setting the tone for poetry incursions. I offered three new poems last night–plus one that I wrote on the spot and dedicated to the didge players. I wrote several poem sketches furiously for over an hour. The heat got to me and I left earlier than usual and followed the full moon home.

The Traveling Bonfires

This week’s issue of Mountain Xpress features an article by Alli Marshall entitled “Playing with Bonfires.” It’s an article about poet, foreign journalist, and editor Pasckie Pascua and his organization called The Traveling Bonfires.

Pascua, with the help of communications assistant Marta Osborne, technical advisor Dale Allen Hoffman and graphic artists Justin Gostony, Matthew Mulder and Jon Teeple, has created a music community drawing bands from as far as Texas.
—Mountain Xpress, “Playing with Bonfires”

It’s always nice to be recognized for behind-the-scenes work. A lot of long hours designing gig posters, emceeing shows, reading poetry and driving to NYC were shared between Pasckie and myself. The first time I met him was at a cafe, The Relaxed Reader, a block from my apartment. It was an open mic event and he read his poem “Nameless” from his laptop.

Malaprop’s Music/Poetry Gig Meditations

It’s a rare Friday night when I can find a parking spot within a block of Malaprop’s, but tonight there was a parking space available in front of the bookstore/cafe. The drum circle occupying Pritchard Park could be heard two blocks away as I entered the store to verify the show time. Later, the drumming souls would triple in size and volume and invite the fire dancers to contribute to the urban tribe.

The sun had not set yet and the autumn twilight air was cool and comfortable. I waited outside for Philip, a friend and fellow performer, who would be supplying the sound equipment for tonight’s event. I hadn’t eaten since lunch and the Malaprop’s cafe was closed because an author was reading excerpts from his book. Twenty minutes later the shadows from the building opposite the bookstore engulfed the street and cars began to turn on their headlamps.

I was a little frazzled because I had been asked to emcee the event, which makes me a bit nervous. Focusing on reading/performing poetry is one thing, but adding the responsibility of emceeing a show is an added dimension. A common misconception is that an emcee just announces who’s up next. There’s more to it than that. An emcee helps coordinate artists with venue management about restroom facilities, store policy concerning discount for performing artists at the cafe, technical sound equipment needs, time slots and in general making the artist feel at home in a foreign place. So, I had a lot on my mind this evening.

Shortly before 8PM I found myself placing mic stands in the cafe and discussing time slots with Vanessa Boyd, a mild-mannered musician with the hint of Texas in her laconic communication. After the author and his fans dispersed, Philip and I began setting up the speakers and microphones. Vanessa was off to the side tuning her guitar as I casually sought information from her, which I planned to use to introduce her. She had traveled from Tennessee to perform and had brought her friend Steve. He was equally laconic, like her silent guardian. The set-up of sound equipment took maybe ten minutes. To my surprise, Vanessa finished her preparations, plugged in, slouched into a cafe chair before a microphone, played a few chords and announced herself relieving me of the burden of introductions.

For the first time that evening I was able to grab a cup of organic coffee, find a stool at the cafe bar and prepare myself for the read. I had almost forgot that two friends had joined me to perform along side my poetry performance. A prose piece (thanks Joy) was recently added to the Late Night Poetry portion of my performance. I quickly fished out the performance script and handed it to Julie who would be reading one poem and singing two other poems. Philip would play the performance soundtrack on acoustic guitar and I had to give him instructions on when to start the musical soundscape.

Wearing an earth-tone wardrobe and playing Americana/folk-style songs, Vanessa Boyd provided me almost twenty minutes of uninterrupted meditation with her rich, strong vocals. Wavy chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail, she sat on a chair hunched over her red acoustic guitar, hazel-green eyes searching the modest assembly, as she sang songs from her many travels.

The show organizer showed up about half way through her set. He had just come off a 14-hour bus trip from Baltimore and hadn’t been expected to be present. We chatted a bit about his trip and a few other topics until 9PM when Vanessa concluded her set.

Double-checking my notes and poem folder, I approached the “stage.” I placed the music stand near the microphone stand and began my introduction including thanks to Vanessa, Malaprop’s and The Traveling Bonfires (who organized the event). The mic stand was competing with the music stand and I held the mic as I read a Billy Collins poems to get things started. I continued to hold the mic as I read through my solo set including a poem by Keith Flynn, a collection of poems from my forth coming project, a pseudo-political piece (with apologies to Uncle Walt) and prose piece by another writer which acted as transition to group performance.

The group piece featured Julie singing three selections (including one she wrote) and reading one and Philip playing his haunting theme as I read through a half dozen poems from Late Night Writing. It continues to amaze me how supportive they are of my work. I often look at the words I have written and wonder if anyone is touched by these poems. Sometimes I helplessly observe someone moved to tears at words I’ve written and wonder why those lyrics don’t move me the same way.

Now I am home in a forest guarded by red cardinals and black salamanders and I am eating chicken, drinking chai tea latte (rooibos tea with honey vanilla & spices), burning incense (sage and smoke) and wondering what lines and poems these hands will transcribe.

Interview: EVA SCRUGGS

It was early February when I visited Eva Scruggs at her River Arts District studio. The recent winter storms had swelled the French Broad River above normal levels and I watched the ominous river on that cloudy afternoon as I drove to meet her.

Eva Scruggs welcomed me into her studio and we exchanged pleasantries. She offered me beer, tea or chai. “Chai would be great.” I said as I retrieved some recording equipment from my canvas messenger bag. She prepared a cup of chai and sweetened it with honey and added soy milk. She offered me the warm drink then sat down in her white floor chair and sipped her beer from an old mason jar. I pressed the red “record” button and began, “Tell me a little about yourself…”

“I guess,” she said. “I started oil painting at the age of six.”

There followed a brief discussion about art school. Eva told me that she had majored in art at the College of Charleston and later received a masters in art education in Tennessee. After that, she took some time off. I asked her if she thought it was important, as an artist, to unplug from art-making.

“Yeah, well, I had to for financial reasons. So, I mean, it isn’t that I ever really wanted to just focus on teaching art. It’s that I had to teach art to make money to feed my habit which is doing art.”

It seems that most of the artists that I know work a day job to fuel their creative passions. Maybe it’s not possible to be a full-time artist. Maybe juggling between art-making and waiting tables is necessary for artists.

“If all I had to do was be here in the studio and paint,” she said. “I would probably go crazy. I would probably get a little too self absorbed. You know how you can really drift into your own world. I need that world and at the same time it helps to keep… balance. So, I teach and I do organic farming during the summer time. And I’m a mom.”

“I really like to teach. I teach at AB Tech and I really, really feed off the new energy of new students… fresh ideas… There is something about the farming thing, too. I have to have at least a certain amount of it, you know. So, no, I wouldn’t want to paint full-time. I think I would go crazy.”

Our conversation weaved into an unsuspected path of artists being the true scientists and modern prophets. But I’ll save that for another time. I wanted to know what direction she thought art education is heading. She suggested that there are two branches of thought. “One is more academic, more exclusive amongst artists. Lots of MFA programs are focusing on what’s relevant to this century or even this half of century. But to me it seems kind of elitist. It seems like that’s going to be a view of art that only a certain amount of people can understand. It’s art for artists.”

“The other, which is sort of my path… is art to the people. Part of the reason I am a figurative painter is because I know that people relate and understand figurative painting. Common, average people understand basic symbolism. Part of my thing… is being able to communicate with people, everyday people. Not just artists who are going to understand the breakdown of elements and principles. So I paint… paintings that… have messages. I don’t paint them for someone to buy. I paint them to express this.” She gestures at the paintings around her. “I’d like people to see and understand and relate. That’s what all those biblical paintings are kind of about, too. Let’s rethink this story. You know, turn it around in a different point of view and modernize it to some extent.”

At the mention of the biblical series, Eva appeared more relaxed, more confident as if she had arrived in her sanctuary. She took a drink from her mason jar. It appeared she was ready to discuss her biblical series.

“Well,” she paused and looked at her hands which were covered in dark fingerless gloves. “It seems like when I started with the biblical theme… I was working on a different series. I was working on the states of human emotion. Trying to capture different emotions… through expression.

“Anyway, so the last one I did, of that series, was a self portrait with my child. After I painted it, I recognized it as a madonna, and I painted in the background a scene from the WTO protests in Seattle. That’s where it all got started. It’s called ‘The Jaded Madonna.’ The madonna is holding this child and she’s obviously concerned, and the child is open, wide open. But behind the mother… the police, decked out in riot gear… smog in the background from the gas that they’re releasing. So, it was kind of a statement.”

“And then it just sort of clicked in my mind,” said Eva as she motioned with her hands. She seemed focused on some point on the floor. “This is something a lot of people will relate to. It’s a biblical theme. It’s a classical theme. People look at it because of that and then… if you can get them in that far then throw something else in there that talks about modern culture. You know, it’s just the juxtaposition that makes a strange commentary. So, I feel I could run wild with that theme.”

I sipped the chai then asked her to tell me about her recent painting series.

“I’ve been working on a dream series just because I’ve had these reoccurring dreams throughout my life. I’m not exactly sure where they come from. But I figured that’s a way to address them, and maybe make them go away.”

“It’s not that they are really bad dreams,” she continued. “I usually have these water dreams where I’m swimming. I can see the top of the water and I know I’m almost out of air. So, I just keep swimming and swimming. But I can never quite make it to the top and I start somehow recirculating my air and… breathing in the water. It feels really good. Anyway, that’s what that one is about…” she said as she pointed to the painting over her right shoulder.

“And that one” she pointed to another painting across the studio resting on an easel. “An image I’ve had in my head for a long time.”

We spent more time discussing ideas, life and art (which I may write about later). But I knew she wanted to do some painting that afternoon. So, I thanked her for the chai (complimenting her on the way she prepared it), packed up my recording equipment, and left Eva Scruggs in her studio with the visions in her head that desired to be translated into pigment on canvas.

(Originally published in The Indie, March 2004 issue.)

Interview: RYAN FORD

Byzantine paintings were created to as icons depicting the eternal while denying the ephemeral. That’s why many 11th and 12th century wooden panel paintings were gilded with gold backgrounds and exhibited floating figures of the Christ, the Madonna and the saints. These images are what inspired River Arts District artist Ryan Ford. “I’ve always been very intrigued by the aesthetics of religious icon art,” he told me in a recent interview in his studio at The Wedge (one of the many warehouse buildings scattered along the French Broad River District). The work that started it all was his replica of St. Anthony Beaten by Devils.

“It’s a fifteenth century, Sienese painting by Stefano di Giovanni,” Ryan Ford began. “The original was an egg tempera painting. I did this in oil paint,” he gestured to the panel on the wall.

“Interesting story about this one… supposedly the peasants were so moved by the piece that they [would] scratch away the beasts faces and genitalia revealing the under sketching. So, that’s what you’re seeing here.” Ford pointed at the portion of the painting where a beast’s groin revealed gold smudges. “I wouldn’t imagine this painting any other way. It’s one of my favorite paintings in the world. That’s why I did an exact copy of it.” Ford explained, “the Sienese artists… capture an air of inquisitiveness. It’s almost timeless and just for them. They paint very simply. They don’t over do anything. I mean, look at the trees in the background. They’re little mushroom shapes. It’s just got this air of truth and beauty that was just so moving to me.”

Ford hit on something that has been missing in contemporary art for a long time, “truth and beauty.” The formula, in the classical school of thought, was to display truth and beauty. Even disturbing images depicted in Stefano di Giovanni painting held a timeless quality and vocabulary that is lost on young, contemporary artists. In Ford’s work he combines violent and comedic elements that resonate.

He moved passed a huge furry mask hanging from the low ceiling and deeper into his studio to a work in progress. “I’m doing a show coming up in April. That’s what this one is for,” He told me as he stood to the left the unfinished painting on an easel.

“I’ve talked [with] friends that have faced the issue of suicide. So, this is kind of a tribute. You’ll notice the brains coming out of the side of his head I painted in gold. Like your ideas are golden. I had this composition in my head and I’ve [wanted] to do it for awhile. I just started yesterday so I’ve gotten this far. There’s a long way to go on it. This for the next show in April.” Ryan Ford is hosting a show April 30th at the Wedge Gallery. The title of the fine arts show is “All Desperate and Golden.”

Behind Ryan Ford hung a large painting dominating the far wall. Its intensity reminds me of an apocryphal vision. Last April, the Mountain Xpress ran an article by Connie Bostic featuring him and Julie Masaoka. In that article Julie wrote: “Ford, who’s now reading the Bible, says he loves the visions these stories inspire. He’s particularly moved… by the Book of Job.” As we moved deeper into his small studio as he told me of the story behind the painting and within the painting.

“I read the Bible. It took me like eight months to read. I’m not going to act like I know everything about the Bible now, because I’m probably just as confused after reading as I was before reading it. So, I was drawn to Revelation. I mean, I love the way it was written. This,” he paused as he looked at his work. “I took from Revelation. The alpha and omega,” Ford pointed to the creature in the upper right hand corner and then casually shuffled to the left side of the painting. “And the angel descending from the sky is dropping seven stars and seven candles. I forget what they are significant of. I’m mixing Revelation with my own little character. His name is Hot-Pants. He’s kind of like the unsung hero. He’s the everyday person. He’s you and me. He’s running blind through his own life. Just kind of taking it as [it] comes, and he’s getting hit from every direction. But he still has a smile on his paper bag.” Hot-Pants is represented by a figure in a red spandex body suit, a blue cap and a paper bag in place of a mask.
“I’ve got a lot of characters,” Ford continued. “This here is our typical businessman who is made a lot of bad decisions. He fears for his life. He’s got his wings right now, but they’re not going to last.”

We discussed other selections of the Bible. We reflected on vibrant imagery in the Bible such as a passage from Zechariah: “I saw by night, and behold, a man riding on a red horse, and it stood among the myrtle trees in the hollow; and behind him were horses: red, sorrel, and white.”

“Yeah that’s how it is in reading it,” Ford responded. “It’s like pieces of it really just grip me. Like I read fragments and… like whoa, you know, and get blown away. Throughout [my] life English and art teachers always move me the most, you know. Of course, Iâ??m retarded in math. But I had an English teacher who said ‘if you read one book, I definitely suggest reading the Bible. If nothing else for the literary quality’.” He turned back to his painting and continued to explain his vision.

“Another central figure here is a rapper. He’s got the armor piercing lyric logo above him, because he’s kind of like the Christ-figure. He’s using his voice as a weapon. And then Jacob’s ladder connecting heaven and earth. I also put [it] in there because it’s one of my favorite movies.”

“It’s just pieces I put together, you know. Actually a lot of the characters I sketch in there one day but a lot of it kind of grows as I go along. The cloud-eater… like what the hell is that? What does that mean? I don’t know. So, I took a cloud-eater [and] made this little monster that’s attractive to me. I don’t try to explain. It just fits for me. And it’s fun.

“My roommate always makes fun of me, ‘All your stuff is like a kid. You can’t grow up.’ Yeah, well, that’s what’s fun to me. I’ve got reference to Mario Brothers with the little bricks. That’s referencing to childhood… nostalgia also.”

Reesa Grushka, in a recent essay, wrote, “Translation usually makes what is foreign familiar. An inverse translation claims what is familiar as the domain of the foreign.” The creations of Ryan Ford seem to translate ancient themes of truth and beauty into contemporary visual stories. Inversely, his use of pop culture icons woven into early renaissance structure communicates well to the modern audience.

(Originally published in The Indie, April 2004 issue.)