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Meta
Category Archives: Cinema
Bop
Posted in Video, Audio, Poetry, Prose, Cinema
Tagged Spoken Word, music, text, bop, writing, words, play, apocalypse
2 Comments
Moby
Scraps, tatters, and the deluge of mindfill flickering, animating, and magnetically assembling your rumored origins into chamber cinema– you, and you alone watching the graffitied runes of a life, or many lives, curated, transcribed, and projected onto an empathic white … Continue reading
For Page and Screen
It was fun having an in-depth conversation on craft, creative process, and the writing life in For Page and Screen’s Summer Interview Series.
Posted in Artwork, Audio, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications, Theater, Uncategorized
Tagged film, interview, novels, plays, playwriting, podcast, screenwriting, writing
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Morphic Trespass
New vinyl has officially dropped.The back story goes like this: Musician, Ben Wright, and I, played together for many years, at many venues and gigs, performing our eclectic bop and groove fusion of spoken word and bass (occasionally accompanied by drums, … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Audio, Books, Cinema, photography, Poetry, Press, Prose, Publications, Theater, Uncategorized, Video
Tagged Bass, bop, Brooklyn, Dylan Thomas, freeform, jack kerouac, jaz, lenny bruce, lost telegram press, music, new album, New York, Poetry, Spoken Word, street, vaudeville, vinyl
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Frame
Sepia scraps of filmreel burnt around the edges flickering to animate and revive the magnetic shavings of a life soundly projected. The genetics of cinema are always hard at work in the nimble and forgiving dark.
Distribution
Engraved in the paranthetical shadows of intensely subjective cinema, I cited myself, watching myself, submerged in a pooling coven of ghosts whose bluest breath of want revived me in fleeting doses. I knew that if I kept watching I would … Continue reading
In Our Solitude
In the birthing solitude of invention, memories night-bloom as cosplay and eulogy in the flickering séance of cinema, keeping strange limitless company to a rounded minimum.
Archive
Memory, eulogies birthed in reverse, séance syncing soundly the cinema of ghosts with real-time revivals rounding to fade.
Now Playing
In the bluest breath of want we are ghosts haunting our own lives possessed by the mutable shadows of cinema.
John Biscello 