My explorations into visual English forms began first with ‘5c Utopia’ and continued (with more focus) in ‘A Book of A’. At the time, there was much atom-splitting amongst the various nations, and I wanted to get my hand in too, so I split the supreme lingua-atom, a, to see what was what. Astounding energies and possibilities and shapes I’d never imagined burst outward as a contains all histories and all futures — and of course I used these new energies for immediate destruction. Control and visual coherence had to be learned — at will, letters can be reshaped and reinvigorated. Or reduced to rubble.
Over time, via typewriter and Letraset, ink and acrylic, I experimented with different ideas. There was failure and success. As I worked with fragments of letters and numbers, I began to understand that poetically, I existed in 3D space. This is not meant in a painterly manner — only in terms of visual poetry. Visual relationships between objects began to imply depth — not merely separation on a flat plane. Thus, ‘background’ also began to assume a distinct presence — not as field, but dimensional gateway. Rough paper and canvas textures formed invisible waves with language bits and shapes floating within and on and above. And each page of a work thus becomes an atom within a larger structure and can be read in any order. And since there’s no linearity in space, where’s up and down?
As a graphic designer, I discovered that the best ad caused the eye to halt long enough for the brain to act. Visual poetry equally so.