WEBSTRUCTIONISM by ROBERTO LAVIDEZ

Wednesday, November 05, 2014

every sort of light

( Auden, Macaulay, Wordsworth,

Moss, Masefield,Henley, Eliot, Yeats,

Thomas, Joseph, Betjeman, Johnson,

Kipling, Longfellow, Wilcox )

by Roberto Lavidez

thousands

are still

asleep

dreaming

of terrifying

monsters

while the

earth’s

bounds

reel and

shake

lest

battered

too long

our walls

and we

should

break…

should

break

my heart

leaps up

when I

behold

a rainbow

in the sky

veering

through

rapids in

a vapid

rapido

to view

the new

moon

from a

ruin on

the Lido

and all

I ask

is a

windy

day with

the white

clouds

flying

and the

flung spray

and the

blown

spume

and the

sea-gulls

crying

under the

bludgeonings

of chance

my head

is bloody

but unbowed

while I

stand on

the roadway

or on the

pavement’s

gray

I hear it

in the

deep

heart’s

core

there’s

every sort

of light

you can

make it

dark or

bright

its silence

I hear

and obey

that I

may lose

my way

and myself

I shall

go out

in my

slippers

in the rain

and pick

the flowers

in other

people’s

gardens

and learn

to spit

beg

pardon

I’m soiling

the doileys

with

afternoon

tea-cakes

drink

to me

only with

thine eyes

and I will

pledge with

mine

and if

you can

dream

and not

make

dreams

your master

if you can

think-

and not

make

thoughts

your aim

and in

the wreck

of noble

lives

something

immortal

still

survives!

sing

and the

hills

will

answer

sigh

it is lost

on the air

©robertolavidez2014

Monday, November 03, 2014

George Crabbe

to spare

by Roberto Lavidez

speak not

to me

of lasting

fame

for I

am not

like fame

to last

the silver

moon’s

enamour’d

beam

steals

softly

through

the night

where

am I

now

I slept

to wake

again

and to

forget

o now

I recollect

what I

confess

you may

as fact

believe

and what

I say not

to your

thoughts

I leave

of one

thing

would I

learn

the truth

if truth

to mortals

may be

told

that no

remonstrance

could remove

that no

indignities

could cure

away with

this accursed

pride

these visions

profligate

and vain

but there

are charms

that long

abide

through

years

that other

charmers

kill

over evil

passions

grow

as soon

as we

begin

to fear

my feelings

I must

all obey

can I

resist

what

mortal can

how often

I have

drawn

my breath

with such

o’erwhelming

pain

so lived

the man

his days

moved

slowly on

although

his years

seemed

swift

when they

were gone

but now

farewell

to every

prudent

care

to every

hope

‘tis useless

now

to spare

hard is

the dwelling

of the nymph

to find

and yet

we ought

not in our

search

to cease

©robertolavidez2014

Sunday, November 02, 2014

that’s that

(Char, Ponge, Pleynet, Roche,

Eluard, Cravan, Daumal, Monnier,

Fellain, Mellarme, Martory,

Chassignet, Reverdy, Ganzo)

by Roberto Lavidez

I wake up

bathed

I melt as

I get up

I harvest

the grapes

of the

immature

sky

what is

more

pleasant

than the

blue sky

unless it’s

a cloud

submissive

in the

sunlight

laughing

with the

blue of

the sky

of the

sheets

toward

the

fucking

cloud

that’s it

never

an eye

into a

null

spiritual

result

no warning

as before

the pig

is sliced

behind me

my eyes

are closed

light is

burnt

night

decapitated

memory

can but

shift

cold ashes

around

when the

depths

of time

it endeavors

to sound

it can cry

it can burst

it can know

a black bird

bursts out

laughing

my blood

boils for

nothing

that’s that

and I will

know each

trembling

of a leaf

caused by

the wind

a sigh

a cry

a word

I content

myself

with being

glimpsed

and carefully

I cultivate

existence

to fall

from the

branches

to drink

straight

from the

source

water

that is

too cold

when the

wool’s

on the

sheep’s

back

there is

no thread

when the

book’s

in the

press

no man

can read it

send

20 copies

please

see what

happens

happy

without

knowing

what

happiness is

of knowing

we are

there

where we

don’t know

where

we are

so man

varies;

the poor

human

body’s

force

that time

abbreviates

and consumes

won’t be

tomorrow

as it is

today

but faced

with the

pointless

surge

the poor

man

sovereign

of himself

will keep

the pride

of silence

erupt like

a mirage:

island in

the highway

of the sky

©robertolavidez2014

Saturday, November 01, 2014

Dylan Thomas

tells it with silence

by Roberto Lavidez

what shall

it tell me

if a timeless

insect says

the world

wears away?

I dreamed

my genesis

and died

again

shrapnel

rammed in

the marching

heart

tells with

silence

the last light

breaking

and the

still hour is

come of

the sea

tumbling

in harness

rebel against

the binding

moon

and the

parliament

of the sky

I make

a weapon

of an ass’s

skeleton

and walk

the warring

sands by

the dead

town

to lift

to leave

from the

treasures

of man

is pleasing

death

that will

rake at last

all currencies

of the

marked

breath

death

is all

metaphors

shape in

one history

I have heard

many years

of telling

and many

years

should see

some change

I saw time

murder me

I have

longed

to move

away

from the

hissing

of the

spent lie

now say nay

man dry man

dry lover mine

now I am

a man

no more

and black

reward

for a

roaring life

©robertolavidez2014

Paul waking is in

Verlaine’s dream

by Roberto Lavidez

memory

what do you

want from me?

beneath

the cloak

our hearts

race with

clandestine

thoughts

stings me

with a false

smile and

changes

my agony

into an

amusing

spectacle

often

I have

this dream

a strange

searching

dream

always these

feverish

phantoms

leading their

vast round

dance

sad and

tossing like

dust-motes

caught in

sunbeams

night comes

the owl flies

it is the

moment

when one

thinks about

old wives’s

tales …

in the black

night

a torso

made of

ivory and

shadow

the sky

was gray

the north

wind

wept like

a bassoon

I wandered

alone

walking

my wound

through

the willow

grove

melancholy

rocks

my heart

to oblivion

I summon

days long

gone

with my

weeping

like an

old man

chilled

to the

bone

like a poor

orphan

without a

big sister

tired

of life

afraid

of death

not unlike

a lost

brig

toy of ebb

and flow

on the

ocean

the first

groan

uttered by

the first

man

driven

from Eden

is nothing

but an eclogue

next to it

waking is

in the

dream

the worm

is in the

fruit

remorse

is in love

that is how

it must be

©robertolavidez2014

Monday, October 27, 2014

my name is

Might-have been

Daniel Gabriel Rossetti

by Roberto Lavidez

I was

a child

beneath

her touch-

a man

when breast

to breast

we clung

her smiles

her glances’

sweet recall

of love

her murmuring

sighs

memorial

o to-day

and the day

to come after!

loose me

love –

give breath

to my

laughter!

her eyes

were like

the wave

within

like

water-reeds

the poise

of her

soft body

dainty

thin

her voice

was swift

yet ever

the last

words

fell

lingeringly

well

I suppose

it was hard

to part

for here

I am

and now

sweetheart

you seem

too tired

to get

to bed

shall we

not lie

as we

have lain

thus for

love’s sake

and sleep

and wake

yet never

break

the chain?

not in

thy body

is thy life

at all

but in

this lady’s

lips and

hands

and eyes

shall not

we at

the sun’s

hour

that day

possess

the shade

and claim

our fruit

before

its ripeness

fade and

eat it

from the

branch

and praise

the tree?

unto

my lady

still

this harp

makes

moan

and still

she deems

the cadence

deep and

clear

making me

rich with

every tone

and touch

of the dear

heaven

so long

unkown

that filled

my dreams

with flame

gather

a shell

from the

strown

beach and

listen at

its lips

they sigh

the same

desire and

mystery

the echo

of the whole

sea’s speech

so it is

my dear

all such

things touch

secret things

for heavy

hearts

to hear

so it is

my dear

look in

my face

my name is

Might-have

been

I am also

called

No-more

Too-late

Farewell

like a

vapour

wan and

mute

like a flame

so let it

pass

Friday, October 24, 2014

alas! Percy

Bysshe Shelley

by Roberto Lavidez

alas!

I have

nor hope

nor health

nor peace

within

nor calm

around

the everlasting

universe

of things

flows through

the mind

rolls its

rapid waves

the flower

that smiles

today

to-morrow

dies;

all that

we wish

to stay

tempts

and then

flies

the race

of man

flies far

in dread

his work

and dwelling

vanish

like smoke

before the

tempest’s

stream

and their

place is

not known

whoever

should

behold me

now

I wish

would think

I were a

mighty

mechanist

from the

ends of

the earth

from the

ends of

the earth

where the

night has

its grave

and the

morning

its birth

come

come!

drive my

dead

thoughts

over the

universe

like withered

leaves

to quicken

a new

birth!

one word

is too often

profaned

for me to

profane it

as I have

said

I floated

to the earth

it was

as it is

still

the pain

of bliss

to move

to breathe

to be

why linger

why turn back

why shrink

my heart?

let the

charged

artillery

drive

till the

dead air

seems

alive

when

passion’s

trance is

overpast

if tenderness

and truth

could last

what art

thou

freedom?

o! could

slaves

answer

from their

living

graves

and anarchy

the skeleton

bowed and

grinned

to every

one

or as they

whom we

have left

we change

and pass

away

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, November 05, 2014

Monday, November 03, 2014

Sunday, November 02, 2014

Saturday, November 01, 2014

Monday, October 27, 2014

Friday, October 24, 2014

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