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“I could find no symbols in the body of work. All my letters have given up.” – Richard Makin, WORK (Chapter XXXIII)

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XXXIII We are unorchestrate — dark columns in the great fugue, intersecting spindles of light, neural ganglia.                 Or, misdoubt, the art of setting stage or disrupting a unique pictorial event: birdlife clinging to an old man in the square. Saints fly down. I’ll make up my own mind about the crew.             I’ve got the bag with the … Continue reading →

“Nothing here is exaggerated. It rains.” – Richard Makin, WORK (Chapter VII)

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As Iain Sinclair has observed, Makin’s “writing is that it is. This is prose you must learn to experience before you begin to interpret […] the pages in their beautiful and delirious abstraction are ordered poetry.” Richard Makin’s WORK continues the “work” of Mourning by taking stock of “the minutiae of the view, the dissenting … Continue reading →

"Modernity today is not in the hands of the poets, but in the hands of the cops" // Louis Aragon
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" // A.N. Whitehead

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"Poetism is the crown of life; Constructivism is its basis" // Karel Teige

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“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we are reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for?…we need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us” // Franz Kafka, letter to Oskar Pollack, 27 January 1904
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