Black. White. Black. White.
on want. To want more
in an atmosphere of
things we never keep.
We’re so high
on the feeling of
Pact with Destiny
-A Blackout Poem-
We evolve through, and with the changes of our lives. We discover an underlying potential, and extend our awareness of who we are, reaching beyond that fickle surface of our reality, as it appears in the present moment. That is the narrative we read, and write of ourselves.
I should have
the life I have,
stormy and turbulent,
but always reaching..
“The reader ‘puts on’ the poem as a mask. He becomes its ‘content’ by adjusting himself to use the poem as a means of perceiving the world” –Marshall McLuhan.
Text, in its traditional form, is transforming itself by feeding on the digital. It evolves and mutates, and has become both a creative tool and a product of humanistic discipline. Bridges stretch over the gaps between literary studies and techno-culture, technocrats and theorists have more conversations, give and take, share and learn.
With a broader understanding of the actual form of “text,” our curiosity towards literary connections grow, expanding towards parallel disciplines as well. Literature as Myth; Literature as Meta. Literature as both the source and the recipient of transformation, as it crosses over to unexplored fields. There is creativity sprawled out on paper, waiting to be rediscovered. Some are left behind, maybe they’ll float by as paper boats, their words surviving seeds carried across waves of inspiration, slowly melting away with the water under the bridges.
Text. Hyper Text. Digital Space. Virtual World.
This is the story I want to tell.. A story of a paper tree that has sprouted an infinity of cyber twigs.