WEBSTRUCTIONISM by ROBERTO LAVIDEZ

Wednesday, December 03, 2014

in (parentheSwiss) poetry

(Genoux, Jenni, Famos, Voelin, Meier,

Wandelere, Pusterla, Lerjen-Sarbach,

Tappy, Giovanni Orelli, Plouda, Chessex,

Giorgio Orelli, Lansel)

by Roberto Lavidez

something

in me

resists and

chokes

blazes up

at the

slightest

breath

no longer

to the future

but to

the past

your

thoughts

will go

moments

fleeting

lizardlike

bid us

savor life

to the full

words

this day

coming back

to graze

my lips

the udders

of cows are

emptied

and tomorrow

those in

the cities

drink

the milk

everyone

will leave

without me

I’ll linger

among

the leaves

near the

lime tree

needing

only to

sense time

in the new

world

after the

fall of

syntax trees

and main

clauses

the loss

of certainties

and

affirmations

left

will be

parentheses

incidentals and

interjections

whenever

I’m all alone

you are

all here

all our

mingled

lives

only the

wind will

revolve

around

our vanished

voices

in the

depths of

the earth

in the

center of

the world

in my face

traces of

time

smile

at me

when

melancholy

would

invade me

with the

earthly

smell

of the

rain

amid such

a familiar

silence

the dead

live more

than the

living

the laurels

on your

graves are

meaningless

human glory

is worth

nothing!

the pleasure

of pissing

without

a hint

of worry

about the

moon or

the wind

©robertolavidez2014

Saturday, November 29, 2014

odes of

all Nerudas

by Roberto Lavidez

I like you

as clay

and sand

I hold you

and shape

you

as you

shaped me

I touch you

and you open

like a faded

rose that

revives for

me alone

my breast

opens like

a bough

light’s

poppies

quiver in

our hearts

the water

flows and

sings

the sky

overhead

is a warm

corolla

your heart

of earth

lent

fertility

and force

to my songs

odes of all

colors

and sizes

seraphic

azure or

violent

odes to eat

odes to dance

odes to track

to be and

not to be

between

waves

that flooded

the universe

with light

of song

I paused

suddenly

to dedicate

a line of

my ode

you would

think that

horses were

galloping

across the

sky

white

mountains

fall

chairs and

armchairs

fall

and so

it was

that night

shadow

and space

earth

and time

something

that flows

and falls

and passes

the land

of nights

we have

never lived

©robertolavidez2014

Thursday, November 27, 2014

when am I not

Saul Williams

by Roberto Lavidez

if I am now

when am I

not?

I am

the storm

that will

make your

sunny days

unbearable

there is

no escape

from the

time and

place

where

fiction

occurs

the game

of happily

ever after

love is

a cruel

farce

I cry out

from the

sinew

out from the

agonized

clutch

of my chest

there is a

meditation

on dying

on mornings

when a song

is played

and the

only crying

of bitter

pain is

pressed

into pillows

suddenly

everything is

so comforting

lakes frozen

to the

bottom

a forest

cathedral

a trembling

voice

that sings

there was

no way

to say

goodbye

that last day

I tried

the guilt

that I feel

is freedom

I say

I am

the apple

that announces

the gravity

of a given

situation

how sad

it is

to be

revered

by everyone

except those

your heart

bleeds

for the

most

if we could

stop and smell

the flowers

we planted

long ago

maybe

I will

find it

under

the rug

or swept

into a corner

that I

never visit

are we

so loving

that we love

what hates us

that we love

what breaks us

who told you

you could

expose

your wings

©robertolavidez2014

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Edward Thomas

out of the wood

of thoughts

by Roberto Lavidez

I have

come

a long way

today

on a

strange

bridge

alone

some eyes

condemn

the earth

they gaze

upon

some wait

patiently

till they know

far more

than earth

can tell them

time swims

before me

making as

a day

a thousand

years

I could

not be

as the sun

nor should

I be

content

to be

as little

as the bird

or as

mighty

as the sun

we look and

understand

we cannot

speak

except in

trifles

and words

the most

weak

it is enough

to smell

to crumble

the dark

earth

the oak

saw the

ages

pass in

the forest

they were

a host

but their

memories

are lost

if I flew

now

to another

world

I’d fall

I sought

for nests

wild flowers

oak

sticks

and moles

both far

and near

out of the

wood of

thoughts

that grows

by night

to be

cut down

by the

sharp axe

of light

from

somewhere

in the

bushes

by a bird

over and

over again

a pure

thrush word

sometimes

a thought

is drowned

by it

sometimes

out of it

climbs

all thoughts

begin

or end

upon this

sound

and all

was earth’s

or all

was sky’s

no difference

endured

between

the two

if I should

lose my

head

why…

I should

want nothing

more

©robertolavidez2014

Sunday, November 23, 2014

the world

of Lorca

by Roberto Lavidez

out in

the world

no one

sleeps

no one

let there be

a panorama

of open eyes

and bitter

inflamed

wounds

agony

dream

ferment and

dream

this is the

world

my friend

agony

the naked

look on

my face

trembling

in alcohol

and launching

incredible

ships

through the

anemones

of the piers

I want the

powerful

air from

the deepest

night to

blow away

flowers and

inscriptions

from the

arch where

you sleep

the dead

decompose

beneath the

city clocks

war passes by

in tears

followed by

a million

gray rats

who could

imagine my

sadness

the look

on my face

was mine

but now

isn’t me

how hard

they try

how hard

the horse

tries to

become

a dog

how hard

the dog tries

to become

a swallow

how hard

the swallow

tries to

become

a bee

how hard

the bee

tries to

become

a horse

©robertolavidez2014

Friday, November 21, 2014

Soviet writers

laugherize laughily

( Khlebnikov, Akhmatova,

Pasternak, Voznesensky,

Mandelstam )

by Roberto Lavidez

it is to

tear away

the outer layer

from objects

to see

the world

without it’s

wrappings

vicious

schemes

and bargee

walls

clearings

dissolve

into us

as night

dissolves day

as the windows

dissolve into

the garden

and suck in

the lilac

and only

kisses are

left to us

as fuzzy as

the little bees

that die when

they leave

their hive

what if

the universe

must wear

a mask

what if

there are

no latitudes

that don’t

ask to have

their mouths

puttied up

for the

winter?

you and I

are a

mountain

of grief…

you and I

will never

meet

it seems

to me

I am

speeding

in a cart

in a jolting

dash across

a frozen

field

my life

has been

secretly

changed

and flows

along

another

course

past other

landmarks

and I

do not

know

my banks

o laugh

it out

you laughletes!

that laugh

with laughs

that laugherize

laughily

slowly

I get out

my glasses

and it’s really

as though

the chimneys

craned

their necks

and the

muse’s barely

heard voice…

and we will

cherish

this hardly

audible

rustle of

feet for a

thousand

years…

then at night

poetry

I’ll squeeze

you dry

to the

health

of my

greedy

paper

I’ll pass

as image

enters into

image

and as one

object

cuts through

another

it’s a disgrace

and signifies

nothing

to be the

story on

everyone’s

lips

it is

unbearable

when

undressed

in all the

posters

in all the

papers

having

forgotten

that there is

a heart

in the

centre

the more

I thought:

and I too

out of crude

weight

will some day

create a thing

of beauty

for the quiet

joy of living

and breathing

tell me

to whom

should I

offer

thanks?

Thursday, November 20, 2014

the song of

Jim Harrison

by Roberto Lavidez

I’m an

old man

surging

upriver

on the

back of

my dream

horse

that I

haven’t

seen

since I

was ten

out of

almost

nothing for

practical

purposes

nothing

then back

as ancient

children

to the great

nothing

again

the song

of man

and water

moving to

the ocean

nothing to

console

the morning

but the dried

grasshopper

on my desk

who fell apart

at my

powerful

touch

I see today

that everyone

on earth

wants the

answer to

the same

question

but none

has the

language

to ask it

in truth

I am puzzled

most in life

by nine

horses

many of us

live full term

never seeing

the bullet

the empty

plate of

hunger

the invisible

noose of

disease

a few years

back

I began to

lose the

world of

people

I’ve spent

a lifetime

trying to

learn the

language

of the dead

of course

we are

condemned

to life

without

parole

until the

gods usher

us in to our

executioners

who live in

a hot

windowless

room

always dark

you walk

through

doorways

in the mind

you can’t

walk out

then one day

you discover

that you’ve

learned

to fly

were it not

for the new

moon

my sky

would

collapse

tonight

so fed by

the waters

of memory

on a

cool night

there is

a break

from the

struggle of

becoming

I suppose

that’s why

we sleep

we want

to sleep

a long time

not forever

but then

to sleep

a long time

becomes

forever

doom

should be

ashamed

of itself

it’s so

ordinary

happening

to billions

of creatures...

would

I still

love the

creek if

I lasted

forever?

WEBSTRUCTIONISM: Reinventing the World through Creative Language

by Roberto Lavidez

Webstructionism is a name I have given to a theory that explores the use of random words or string of words extracted from various texts and references as construction material for both poetry and art. It is a practice of sequencing words to form new phrases as narrative for painting. It is also a process of extracting and assembling unrelated words and phrases from different sources to create new poetry. What began as a wayward search for an idea for a painting has turned into a method that challenges one’s intellectual approach to words as much as it enhances creative use of language. It has also led to criticizing acquired language after discovering how words can be accumulated and manipulated to effect a thought outside of one’s storage of ideas.

The creative dimension of language use presupposes that man can generate and transform word combinations and grammatical structures that are not commonly articulated in any form of communication. Sentences and phrases that may have no exact parallels in previous English usage can be created and introduced to extrapolate abstract ideas. This rationalist view, in contrast to the empiricist, argues that not all knowledge is derived from and determined by sense experience. It supports the theory of innate ideas whereby some knowledge can result from the inherent structures of the mind. Though external stimulation is necessary to awaken innate capacities, it does not necessarily mean that ideas and concepts result completely from external impressions.

As an artist who is in the habit of not only rendering what is visible in nature, but also capturing what may be deemed unpaintable, I have recognized the viability of the written word as more than a tool for poetry by extending its use as guide material for an experimental pictorial composition. What began as a playful mixing of words from torn pages of an old English dictionary had evolved into a theory encompassing other linguistic theories that bear semblance to Webstructionism. The randomness of stringing words and sequencing of unrelated phrases offer exponential possibilities for creative projects of all media which may provide support to existing theories.

In elucidating the workings of the mind and its capacity to reinvent language, I have embarked on this experimental approach using art and poetry to underscore the creative mental process of forming phrases derived from random extraction of borrowed words. The expression of a thought comes from processing words or phrases that are made available through random selection. I rely on intuition in combining words that normally wouldn’t be selected in expressing a thought in the real sense. Phrases preclude any reference to clichés or predictable word combinations. Though there are instances when memory dictates the stringing of commonly used words to produce a phrase subsequent arrangement almost always lean back to the original intent of surprise of Webstructionism which diverts away from worn out phrases or any reference to immediate reality.

Now, how does this word structure render itself to visual exploration? There is an otherworldly reality inhabiting the canvas space where the arbitrary selections of words provide the framework - syntax as pictorial composition. Symbolic knowledge supersedes the literal in providing the blueprint for the visual imagery. The words that make up the complex phrase is connected by a single drawn line following the sequence of the group of words’ relative use to expressing a thought. The resulting visual abstraction made up of a continuous swirling line connecting words serves as the compositional guide for painting. Enclosed shapes determined by the line weaving through selected words are then painted according to artist’s preference which is directed by intuition and sometimes influenced if not hampered by his predictability of taste and acquired style. Choosing colors to fill in shapes simulate the process of choosing words to make a phrase. Aesthetics that guide the artist’s use of colors however do not necessarily apply the same writer’s approach of mixing words. The sensory appeal of colors influenced by artistic preference and knowledge of the discipline do not strictly correlate to the ordering or sequencing of words in a phrase. Rules are different for each discipline, literary or aesthetic, and compounded by the introduction of Webstructionism, adherence to what has been laid down thus far as rules of the game will eventually yield a more comprehensive scope or objective. Putting yellow next to mauve does not need analyzing as to whether it is representative of nature or an abstract concept as much as combining words ‘grout’ and ‘devout’. Lines and colors do not evoke as much analytical response as words. We can ‘read’ past the random display of colors on a canvas surface, but with words, which is what Webstructionism is driving at, the random selection of words when pasted or written together on the surface compels the literate viewer –reader to translate what may seem outright non-sensical verbiage to something even poetically profound. ‘Grout’ and ‘devout’ may be analyzed as sounding similar but the relevance does not end there. Though they rarely appear together on any text, both words when placed side by side, sans the conjunction, conjures up a meaningful connection or symbiosis. The pious devotee referring to the ‘devout’ requires faith which metaphorically can be associated with the word ‘grout’. Grout ‘fills the space’ which can represent the ‘filling in’ of doubt by the devout or devotee’s faith.

Webstructionist grammar does not reject sense. It does in fact embrace profundity given the right word or in the webstructionist sense ‘the rite’ of words through random selection. It is also, as mentioned, autonomous in the rationalist sense. Syntax is not solely derived experientially. It does not categorically represent sense reality. Sentence construction is rooted in imagination breeding odd selection of words in favor of the commonly used. Since ideas are stimulated by the words made available through random selection the artist is discovering thoughts that may have no parallel in the real sense but which can expand if not add new horizon to the conducive kind of rationality he has been accustomed to.

To illustrate the process of Webstructionism, the line that connects words to form a phrase creates the fluid like image branching into irregular shapes which are then enhanced by color. Words that are not selected are either painted over or left as they are printed on a page. The words taken to form a phrase command the flow of the line according to how each word appears in the sequence. What results as visual abstraction after the line is drawn following the sequence of words is actually a mapping out of the evolution of the phrase. It is similar to connecting dots to form a figure, only the dots are replaced by words and the line that goes through the phrase does not represent any particular figure other than the image it creates out of stringing words.

The first step involves skimming through the dictionary and picking a particular page. Leafing through the pages and stopping at any random page is all instinctive. What follows as the tearing of pages and the haphazard pasting of torn pieces on the canvas surface still requires no mental exertion. The word selection that transpires next, where some are highlighted and others are either left out or erased in the process, is based on the artist’s familiarity or quick recognition of the words. It might take some browsing and discriminate selecting of words but this is as far as the tweaking of the elements go which is not unlike choosing green over purple in coloring a spot. Though there are marginalized words that do not end up in the forming of a phrase the goal is to be able to arrange the retrieved words in the quickest way possible avoiding redundant words that would otherwise spoil the freshness of the selection. The process is similar to picking flowers for an arrangement without giving much thought as to why some are left out and others end up in a vase.

During the sequencing of words, worn out phrases are avoided to explore possibilities of creating a syntax out of unique word combinations. It is a conscious negation of conventional usage of the English language, freeing every formation or phrasing of words from the subjugation of official grammar. Despite the wide variety of descriptive words available to depict reality, common language is forged in its method of representation. The very limitation of vocabulary available to webstruction on the other hand, propels the imagination to forge a reality embedded in the new phrase.

In Wittgenstein’s philosophy of language, he rejected the assumption that the meaning of the word is the thing it stands for. Wittgenstein argued that meaning is what is given by explanations of meaning, which are rules for the use of words. It is what is understood when one understands what an utterance means based on several criteria of understanding. “Concepts are not correct or incorrect, only more or less useful. Rules for the use of words are not true or false. They are not answerable to reality, nor to antecedently given meanings. Rather they determine the meanings of words, are constitutive of their meanings.”

The intentionality of thought and language of Webstructionism conveys the subjective proposition of a metaphorical world laden with symbols. The object is not perceived or seen in the spatio-temporal world but is imagined from the relations of words. The personal imaging of thought formed by the play of words is manifested through the content of what is written. Though the puzzle of retrieving usable words to create a thought shares a similar thread of arbitrary use of language to represent external reality, Webstructionist thought gravitates towards the unknown like stumbling upon an intriguing object or mysterious code that needs to be examined or deciphered to reveal its meaning. The meaning is in the process of construction and deconstruction of imaginings. It does not pretentiously encapsulate the essence of a higher reality but can open up to alternative realities. The final end has neither finality nor ending. It can only retrace the arbitrary formation of words. Looking at the amorphous image created by the line tracing all the words that make up the phrase reveals the choices made by the artist and the blueprint of how messaging was processed. The inductive deductive roundabout exegesis behind the pictorial and verse compositions is the operative principle of Webstructionist thought and language. It is picture-making which generates potential variants of invented realities.

Roberto Lavidez

Ontario Canada

WEBSTRUCTIONISM by ROBERTO LAVIDEZ

Wednesday, December 03, 2014

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Friday, November 21, 2014

Thursday, November 20, 2014

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