|
|
By Matthew Hamilton, on November 24th, 2010

Happy Holidays everyone! Being the resident geek here at Quarto, I usually have a look at many gadget blogs, and this morning I was happily surprised to see there’s something in it for all writers out there. If you’re looking for some good advice on getting a gift for that special writer someone, or even thinking of what to ask for yourself, here’s Crunchgear’s guide to gifts for writers:
http://www.crunchgear.com/2010/11/24/gift-guide-for-writers-and-those-who-support-them/
By pm2584, on November 17th, 2010
This is a little piece I wrote on my 18 hour flight home.
I look at my hands
The same, who built it all,
The same, who broke it all.
I had the clay in my fist
Started molding and shaping it
What it became,
I never could see
How beautiful was it
I never could tell
As it changed
From the piece of clay
To the beautiful sculpture,
It was meant to be ,
It did weaken a few hundred times
Only to be reinforced
By these very hands
The belief I had
Made it stay.
As it grew,
It was weighed down
By these same hands.
Slowly but surely
The clay began to change.
From a part of the lovely figure,
To the sand which flowed
Right through
My very hands.
I never could see
What my hands held for me.
Still cant see
What the future has for me
Yet
I strive to try again
Knowing I would hold it strong
Only this time
It would not be a sculpture
Waiting to pass into emptiness
But become and stay
What its meant to be.
No, its just not my belief
I’ll make it and show
How perfect
It will be
How everlasting
Its meant to be
My hands will make it
As amazing as it can be
As beautiful as it should be
– Prateek Mehta
By jy2434, on November 15th, 2010
At first glance Is Not Known seemed unexpected—that is, compared to Eli Siegel’s other pieces that come just before in this 1954 issue. The voice in the former is less prosaic, the syntax more varied. Here the images stand isolated (especially with the repetition—as if in some sort of vacuum) yet determinate by use of both punctuation and demonstrative pronouns. What struck me most, though, was the thirteenth line “Saw what is going on.” Hm makes me wonder about Louis Mink’s logical theory of explanation and prediction. We have no access to “what really happened” in the past nor “what will happen” in the future nor, as Siegel seems to suggest, “what is going on.” — But the cows?! 🙂
[issuu viewmode=presentation layout=http%3A%2F%2Fskin.issuu.com%2Fv%2Flight%2Flayout.xml showflipbtn=true pagenumber=45 documentid=100129002358-0b59eeb18762449594fba21048faa1cd docname=1954-vol5-no1 username=quarto loadinginfotext=1954-Vol5-No1 showhtmllink=true width=420 height=577 unit=px]
By jy2434, on November 5th, 2010
Cute but pricy bookshop downtown I visit sometimes for their cafe (they’re also right next to a good cupcake shop..) holds pretty regularly some events, workshops, etc. An upcoming one: “Conversations on Practice with Carole Maso” this Monday Nov. 8, 7:00pm – 8:00pm. Glenn Kurtz will be the moderator. Should be interesting/fun!
For more info:
http://mcnallyjackson.com/index.php/component/option,com_events/Itemid,30/agid,735/day,08/month,11/task,view_detail/year,2010/
By ari2103, on October 18th, 2010
I decided to have a look at the 1966 Spring Edition of Quarto and stumbled upon a lovely short poem -The Blue Beret, by David Lukashok, which left me with a sense of loveliness. The strength of his use of color throughout the poem was impressive, and interesting that he chose to use two colors that were at opposite ends of the spectrum. The first time I read it I was left with an ineffable sense of beauty and simplicity, pure and basic, and intensely visual. I decided to try my hand at it and wrote a pastiche of it, but changed the age and sex of the subject in addition to changing the colors Lukashok used. Maybe the different colors might invoke a different feeling to the poem as a whole, I don’t know, but I hope you’ll let me know how differently you felt after reading Lukashok’s original**and after reading my imitation of it. Enjoy.
The Green Sweater
(An interpretation/imitation of David Lukashok’s “The Blue Beret”, by Amital Isaac)
Like a young fellow, a student
My budding beau in green,
Green woven wool
With a sea of waves across his chest
On a knit of soft olive green
And his eyes like clouds of gray hanging above
Piercing and calm as he looked over his shoulder
And then the other way
But both of them O so gray
Where did I see him?
When waves began crashing in my ears
And silver gray specks turned away
All I was left with
All but
His green gray eyes
** Lukashok’s original piece here on Page 48:
http://blogs.cuit.columbia.edu/quarto/quarto-1966-spring-issue/
|
|