in·ter·sect [in-ter-sekt]
–verb (used with object)
1. to cut or divide by passing through or across: The highway intersects the town.
–verb (used without object)
2. to cross, as lines or wires.
3. (Geometry) to have one or more points in common: intersecting lines.
(courtesy Dictionary.com)
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After a hundred years of thinking about it, I have finally come arrived up a new name for my little space, and I'm pretty excited about it. I'll be bringing the rest of Cosmic Liverwurst over as I weed through it and decide what is worth putting up here. And I'll leave the old space up and periodically update it, but this is the primary place you'll find me from now on.
Where the heck did the old name come from, anyway? Well, when I first discovered Googlewhacking, it got me thinking about the relationship between the utility of labels for identification and the drive for all artists to be considered unique. I talk about it here. The name emerged from experiments along those lines. I liked what I came up with then. Still do.
So why the new name? Well, to make it a little more findable and easier to label, for starters. And as I move toward more ambitions artistic pursuits, I thought maybe the artists with whom I'm fortunate enough to work - performing poetical and musically, hosting in the Spoken Word Series, etc. - might be a little happier to see me if I weren't associating them with a pork liver sausage. Not that there's anything wrong with that....
But really, where my writing interest lies, the place I covet in the pantheon, if you will, is clear. I write primarily at the places poetry intersects (geometrically speaking, of course) with other things - science, history, and parenthood, especially, but more and more other art forms as well, and more interactively - the poems speak to things and the things speak back. The poems I've placed for publication most recently have all been intersections and poems in response to art, and that continues to be where the less dog-eared pages in my journals point.
So here we are with a new name and maybe a new focus. Stay with us if you will, there are many more common points to be explored.
Poetry intersects science. And parenthood. And business. And pop-folk music. And sports. And quiltmaking. And chicken parmigiana. In this little corner of the Internet (formerly Cosmic Liverwurst), a father, husband, poet, engineer, accordionist, and baseball fan who believes it is possible to root for the Mets without hating the Yankees contemplates these and other intersections in contemporary creative writing.
Showing posts with label Cosmic Liverwurst. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cosmic Liverwurst. Show all posts
Saturday, August 20, 2011
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