An autographed copy of the full-color, 264-page selection of the artist's work from the last decade. The book is prefaced by an introduction by Matt Dukes Jordan and concludes with an interview with the artist. "My journey places me on paved streets and sidewalks, to love what lies just out of reach. It is here, with you, along the edges of beauty, I feel complete." - Eric Anfinson

You can get it here.

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Aspects

12/6/11

"All art is autobiographical. The pearl is the oyster's autobiography"
~Federico Fellini

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The Road

11/30/11

You flagged walks of the cities! you strong curbs
at the edges!

You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves!
you timber-lined sides! you distant ships!

You rows of houses! you window-pierced facades!
you roofs!

You porches and entrances! you copings and iron
guards!

You windows whose transparent shells might
expose so much!

You doors and ascending steps! you arches!

You gray stones of interminable pavements! you
trodden crossings!

From all that has been near you I believe you
have imparted to yourselves, and now would
impart the same secretly to me,

From the living and the dead I think you have
         peopled your impassive surfaces, and the
         spirits thereof would be evident and ami-
         cable with me.

The earth expanding right hand and left hand,

~Walt Whitman

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If You Forget Me

11/18/11

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

~Pablo Neruda

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Emptiness

11/15/11

"Painting picture by picture, I followed the impressions my eye took in at heightened moments. I painted only memories, adding nothing, no details that I did not see. Hence the simplicity of the paintings, their emptiness."
~Edvard Munch

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