Tag: derivative works

Dream Gerund: being

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Derivate Works, exposition, Poem, Poem for Poet, poemo, poet, poetryLeave a comment

Arte Digitora derived from the poems: “On Doing” & “Dream Gerund”

On Doing

I have a compulsion to do.

But sometimes/often just want recline.

And the softness [and] of being. Pulled tight into a cocoon & the doing hushed out of me and filled with prairie definitions.

My untold untyped Great/lake fantasies.

Fallen grass tufts and waterproof boot slosh and plant names and hours of dendrochronology with fantas/tical idealized notions of rubbing and human collision, of being.

July nothingness would be a dream come true I close my eyes to it and do and do and do.  

~ juggernaut

On July 19, 2022, upon noting the correspondence between the words “doing”, “being” and “dream” in the above poem and the published poem “Dream Gerund” both written by the same poet — I created a digital derivative work – works which I now refer to by the neologism that I conceived:

Arte Digitora.

a digital derivative work (Arte Digitora) created on July 19, 2022 from shared media of the poem “On Doing” and photoshopped with digital photos of printed text from two poems by the same author published in memotoallemployees, 1995)
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limineen

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Alchemy, author, cosmos, Crone, Crone Consciousness, Derivate Works, exposition, Knowledge, Lexicon, liminal, liminality, limineen, liminine, threshold, velveteen, Word, WordsLeave a comment
the limineen
as imagined with
The Flammarion Engraving

Limineen : limin + een

noun: the time and space of the thresholds; attendance to or presence in, the in- betweens, the interregnum — of becoming and nonbecoming; of beingness and nothingness; of the material and ethereal; of sacredness and profanity; of love and hate; of calm and rage; of the authentic and the engineered; of inertia and energy.

limineen is both mood and State of this author, an Earthling, human, woman and entity, who finds her self present within and attendant to the thresholds of the corporeal, incorporeal and surreal.

from liminal / lim·i·nal
/ˈlimənəl/ adjective

  1. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.
  2. relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
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Equinox Upon All Your Houses! | All, Praise Theia!

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Creation Story, Earth hospice, Earthling, earthlings, Equinox, planetary hospice, Sol, Solstice, spring, SunLeave a comment

Equinox upon all your houses!

and an Equinox and Solstice prayer:

All praise, Theia!

Thank you for life, the genesis of the path of our axial light;

in your violent, alchemical transformation,

you twice, gave us our light,

the cycle of seasons,

and the precession of the equinoxes in the northern and southern hemispheres of our life-giving Mother Earth,

your gifts are incomparable; an enduring aweing abundance.

All, praise, you Theia, for our Earth Mother Gaia and our Moon, Selene!

Vernal Equinox Evening, Chicago, 2017
Vernal Equinox Sun’s set, Michigan, 2023

derivative work based on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet — Mercutio’s curse, as exclaimed to the Montague and Capulet families and their factions as he realizes he is mortally wounded by Tybald’s sword — he, collateral damage in the melee of their war of and for power — and against, love.

for the Earthling/environmental/political take on the equinox:

Continue reading “Equinox Upon All Your Houses! | All, Praise Theia!” →

4th sunday of lent : refreshment sunday

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Gnosis, Gnostic, Lent, QuoteLeave a comment

There is something we were never told, and this is that there is a tradition of no tradition.

A tradition of Wild Mystics or Wild Gnostics, that don’t fit into any theological or academic classification: A tradition of spiritual nomads that would not be shackled to any system or scripture; that would write their own myths and stories with the blood of their own experiences, which source can be found within their own entrails, within the marrow of their bones; within the dust of the grave, beyond what can be called experience, but that comes within their every breath.

These mystics recognize and borrow everything that speaks true to the reality of their bones without binding themselves to the rest of their traditions, but most of all, they speak with their own voice. Their voice cannot be classified or pegged to any known tradition.

tradition is violence

As soon as a scholar thinks he or she has found their source, another scholar finds that they were mistaken; for scholars, as St. John of the Cross said, argue long but never leave the ground.

Scholars speak of Gnosis and of dualism and try to explain Gnostic writings without ever having experienced gnosis, and therefore, gnosis remains unfamiliar to them and to their poor mislead readers.

Their arguments are filled only with words and a reasoning that can make a case, but that fails the source and has no substance. That is a tragedy, for they not only don’t know, they don’t even know what they don’t know, and that they don’t know.

— Tau +Rosamonde Ikshvàku Miller+,
Ecclesia Gnostica Mysteriorum, 2018
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Neologism: Amscape

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Neolexia, Neologism, poet, Quote, Word, WordsLeave a comment

Amscape : (noun) [ am-skāp ]
(am + scape)

The exclusively self-knowable inner landscape encompassing the psychic and pneumatic terrain of a person;

the complex of inner consciousness, metacognition, and intimate, private and transcendental experience that comprises the deep self of an individual; a human being’s interiority as distinguished from one’s outward persona, personality, biography or physical identity — and as distinct from the familial, professional, interpersonal, or social psychological evaluations, analyses, perceptions or stereotypes rendered, imposed or held by others.

Your amscape is the “you” that only you can explore, traverse and know.

This neologism is inspired in part by the late, Irish poet, philosopher and once-priest +John O’Donohue+ , who himself was inspired by the 13/14th century German mystic Meister Eckhart, speaking in his final appearance and in one of his last interviews ever, on On Being with Krista Tippet, before his untimely death in 2008. It is a compelling, life-affecting and -affirming conversation.

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poem for poet: Nayyirah Waheed, Salt

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Poem, Poem for Poet, poemo, poet, poetryLeave a comment

[ The Lethal Salinity of The Truth ]

Her words are not for me
not about me
Her words are not for me
not about me
Repeat

am i allowed
To float Her words aloud
To sink them in my mind
To lap them from the page

i accidentally swallow,
then gulp down Her Salt words/
like when the surf breaks,
and surprises the exhilarated, Great Lakes girl
with a mouthful of seawater
during her very first swim in the Ocean

Her words were not meant for me
Her words were not meant for me
Repeat

but

they quenched then drowned me anyway

Continue reading “poem for poet: Nayyirah Waheed, Salt” →

holy ghost: a statement

On By ©️K.T. 2025In art, exposition, memo, Narrative, poemo, Spiritive, Spirrative, velveteenLeave a comment

“The most important thing for everyone in Gringolandia is to have ambition and become ‘somebody,’ and frankly, I don’t have the least ambition to become anybody.”

Frida Kahlo

in the end, we are all just holy ghosts,

ghosts who sometimes want to feel, or be seen, or be felt by others who are also seeking, whether they know it or not — whether they become known forever after or become, forever unknown — to us.

if anyone were to speculate — or attempt to draw definitions or executive summaries about me — as one particular, ambitionless, ghostly being 






as a mother, poet, crone and Earthling — about my collection of words, opinions, ideas, poems, photos, ephemera, art, beliefs or altars — now, or when i’m dead and gone,





— in the end, and at the beginning,
this is and was, always a place for me to fundamentally 
better understand





my Self — for my self & by my self.





for me,





to try to understand my relationship to Others, to the World, to the Earth;





and also,





for me,





to try to understand my relationship to my creativity – the conception, process and act of creating 





and finally,





to try to understand this strange existence, in and of itself.










no one else has ever been essential to experience, interact with, interpret, interrogate or validate any of it — of mine, ever — yet, they are welcomed to do so — if they happen upon me





yet, my nearest and dearests don’t even know this collection exists




 Continue reading “holy ghost: a statement” →
			
					

	




			
				


			
				


			
				


			
				


			

		

			
Neolexia: Arte Digitora

						

				On  By ©️K.T. 2025In Dictionary, Lexicon, Neolexia, Neologism, Poem, poetry, Word, WordsLeave a comment			

					


		

			

Arte Digitora, alternatively, arte digitora, artedigitora, #artedigitora





Arte Digitora is art/e that is organically, intentionally or incidentally created, conceptualized or derived from intentional or incidental digital/cellular communication and/or collaboration and hosted primarily – though not always exclusively – in digital space-time.





The art/e primarily consists of digital/cellular communication text content including email correspondence; word-processing documents; text and direct messaging conversation blocks or bubbles; shared photos, images, screenshots, icons/reacts/emojis; shares and links; voice clips/messages; and social media comments — using a variety of digital/cellular applications and platforms; anonymity or identity may be implied, preserved, protected or negotiated. 





This art/e is created, conceptualized, utilized or reproduced by one or more participant humans based on singular, multiple, continuing or abandoned digital/cellular communications; it may be fixed i.e., “locked” and immutable, or the art/e can be fluid, altered, edited, deleted, interpreted, archived or restored in its original form or any subsequent altered/edited form by any of the the original communicators or subsequently, by those with access.





Arte Digitora are not NFTs, but NFTs may contain elements of arte digitora.





Any Arte Digitora may be migrated and reproduced in physical space in the form of inspired or derivative 2D or 3D works such as prints, photos, books, sculpture, crafts or objects, or as audio/visual, performance, tactile or projection art.















from Wikipedia:





Art is a diverse range of human activity, and resulting product, that involves creative or imaginative talent expressive of technical proficiency, beauty, emotional power, or conceptual ideas.





from Wiktionary:





Digital





    

  1. Having to do with digits (fingers or toes); performed with a finger.
    2. 




  2. Property of representing values as discrete, often binary, numbers rather than a continuous spectrum.
    3. 




  3. Of or relating to computers or the Information Age.
    4. 



			
					

	




			
				


			
				


			

		

			
memo to a particular poet

						

				On  By ©️K.T. 2025In heartbreak, love, memo, Poem, poememo, poetry, relationships, UncategorizedLeave a comment			

					


		

			

i am going to bed, now
at 7:08
to lessen the ache
of being awake





this is a poem
this is the business
of us, artists
this is our “business correspondence”





inform a collaborator
a coworker – if you will,
of your passwords and process
before taking those pills





my corazón has nearly bled-out
migrating across my torso, my limbs, 
and my crown
settling into my cornflower blue eyes
bloodshot — with or without drops and disguise




 Continue reading “memo to a particular poet” →
			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
someone

						

				On  By ©️K.T. 2025In heartbreak, poetry, UncategorizedLeave a comment			

					


		

			
i feel like someone

you last loved on a wednesday,

earlier this week


i feel like someone who was once your intense singular joy/ now and again, an invisible naturalist, poet, neologist and crone


i feel like someone you forgot to mention the Hilma Af Klint show to


i feel like someone losing our intimacy

exponentially, by the second, against a shot clock in an un-united center


i feel like someone whose forehead you won’t kiss; whose hollows you’ll never touch with hands, tongue or tip; like someone who’ll never truly climax again


i feel like someone who upset you with

Dream[ing] and that’s where it ended; someone who never listened to your diatribe about Waco, or heard of your plane rituals and four-part fruition


i feel like someone whose mystery you’ll let be; whose content was consumed without gnosis; like those cold “leftovers.”


i don’t feel like someone you will walk across a frozen Lake or Lake bed to get to anymore, during the apocalypse, Station Eleven style Continue reading “someone” →