Blackout poetry - upcycling book pages with whimsy

Happy Sunday! This post is about a whimsical way to repurpose book pages. But first, a little reflection on the value of whimsy.

“You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.” - Mary Oliver. 

I've done both, and now I can see how they're related. Have you ever lost your whimsy? In "Where's my Whimsy?",  Rachel Glaser reflects on her loss:

I had so much whimsy

I had too much whimsy

ask my lovers

I was light

I laughed

I lit up at strangers' dogs

and funny names ...

it was partly my birthday

my hair curled with glee

I twisted with happiness

in the back seat of cabs

any despair fit well with the whimsy

powered the whimsy ... 

I even liked the despair

besides, the future held whimsy...

love ended in despair but pushed me to the next 

there was so much whimsy in each beginning

ask

I let it rule me

....Friends called in despair and I lent them whimsy

gradually, despair mixed with whimsy 

and cancelled out like numbers

there was a cool balance... 

there was a distance

where there was whimsy before

there was now a... sad mona lisa smile

with braces of despair

I see the whimsy trapped in a girl's ring

I saw it in a photo shoot on the train tracks

I have an eye for it

I'm not a stranger to it

but once it tittled out of me 

I dispensed it like candies

it carnivaled around me

ask.

Why am I going on about this? Because I read Rachel Glaser's poem in a bookstore on Christmas eve in 2014. And it took the wind out of me - I found myself wanting to weep for the loss of my whimsy. It never really went away, of course, but I did stop valuing it. And Mary Oliver is right, of course. It has value.

Which brings me to the Blackout Poetry - my most recent outlet for my whimsy, and also a really fun way to turn a page from a book into a very different thing. If you follow me on Instagram, you've seen the poems!

I'm using pages from Only Revolutions by Mark Danielewski. His first novel, House of Leaves, is a cult-favorite. Only Revolutions takes the experiment 10 steps further in a story about teenage lovers Hailey and Sam. The book is printed on two sides--one side tells the story from Hailey's point of view, flip it over and you get Sam's side (literally). Hailey and Sam are wild, wayward and never grow old. With an evolving stable of cars, they move through various places and moments in time as they try to outrace history. It's a mind-bending mix of poetry and stream of consciousness prose. 

I bought the book about 5 years ago for 99c. And I bought it for its incredible cover (above). I did try to read it but found it tiresome. Nevertheless, I hung on to it for its twisty poetry! And in the last 10 days or so, I've taken a lot of delight in finding it. Here are my efforts so far.

Meandering Walnut and Hyacinth 

Huckleberry honelickling for more,

blooming, ripe.

Clawings up

new hope seethes with gnashing teeth

I pick him up

surrendering nothing

That's a beginning

Monarchs wake too

No big deal

Me.

I happily untangle my hair

I'm the tangle of every dare

A kindness never outrun

stalking me 

daring me

flutter:

because all around me 

the world rebegins

curving and dazzling

my serenity wipes out disaster

with laughter

I bring a shoeless pirouette 

He bows

A fork ahead.

I take both.

I offer my hand which starnit

he blushingly yanks

He doesn't weight much

but I'm glad for his touch.

Liberty! The second most

misconstrued of human aims.

- Wha'z the first?

- Love.

Petals twirling my hair.

Feet bare.

I dive

Swirling the World and ground

Around and around.

Blurring

Whirling

Everything.

Lost.

Until.

Nothing frantics me.

I'm ever here. Allways unavailable.

I veer another way
Topaz
Onyx
Rivers wild with rainbows.

She's flabbergasted by my charitable charms,

So I kiss her dirty cheek.

Pulling my moon

over summer.

Head first,

round after round billowy seasons

all hooked.

She spins for kisses,

Upending

forever.

Quivering

feathers flirt gently,

and discover the worth of

pleasure.

Peace.

The most courageous

catastrophe.

Keyed up
by a stranger I cannot meet
but must seek.
Nothing to lose except
his smile.

Love is

walking the wire.

Love is a root

to a ground

beyond 

oneself

I can walk away.

Everyone loves but I leap free

with a spin on

bare feet.

Why don't I have any shoes?

Deliverance.

Do I depart undisturbed 

or

Delay to love only ruins?

Kites

planes and

balloons drifting

waywardly.

What light the moon 

speaks yet she says nothing.

Her discourses shame stars,

so bright that birds sing

and think it not night.

More to come on Instagram! While you're there, search #blackoutpoetry and #blackoutpoem to see lots of wonderful examples. PS: all you need to do this are markers and/or paint pens.