Tag Archives: craft

Ravels

Posted on September 7, 2020 by John Biscello

At the wound’s core, dark luscious ravels of text, courting, inviolate measures, the fathomless brood of Beauty’s End.

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Craft

Posted on September 7, 2020 by John Biscello

How a writer, cave-timing dark and solitude, annoints an ember by crafting the small hours into a flagrant torch.

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Ray Carver

Posted on April 4, 2019 by John Biscello

Word by stringent word, you gave us breathing lessons– grace near to pauses.    

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taoStyling

Posted on October 12, 2018 by John Biscello

Interview in taoStyle, revolving around Taos, New York, the writing life, and my new novel, Nocturne Variations. “Brooklyn, New York born and raised author, poet, playwright and spoken word performance artist, John Biscello, has called Taos home since 2001. The … Continue reading →

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Arc

Posted on April 17, 2018 by John Biscello

Here, learning to craft, birth to arc, John Biscello– my life’s truest art.

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Purls

Posted on April 11, 2018 by John Biscello

Lisping, to gentle feral purls of ink on skin– Words, crafted to touch.

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Sylvia Plath

Posted on April 4, 2018 by John Biscello

To be a mother, and to double as a dark sorceress, a cleaver of dried bones, could not have been easy. Especially in the 1950s. They burned witches then, as well as reds and blacks and faggots, and other things … Continue reading →

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Beginning Now

Posted on March 15, 2018 by John Biscello

Craft. Tactile homage, and respect to craft, its inviolable depths and integrity, to approach craft as you would a fertile god, to practice, radically, at its altar, to consecrate with marked intent, and to know in your heart’s heart that … Continue reading →

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Diane Arbus

Posted on February 27, 2018 by John Biscello

The camera, doesn’t revolt upon you, per se, but its mirror, when reversed, convicts an image which forges your name, if not your identity.     (Photo by Allan Arbus)

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Coil

Posted on February 20, 2018 by John Biscello

To caper at the edge, where the seething lyric happens, poetry with slits and fast teeth, where the hours of phenomena are boiled and reduced to a single quivering instant, an umbilical knot of light upon tenderest scraps and coils. … Continue reading →

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