To create is to make a pact with nothingness.
The void exacts its tribute. What price do
I daily pay for maintaining sufficient
ignorance to accept forms when they emerge?
Writing, I sometimes feel I am working with
nothing. Where are the words? Certainly not
here on the page. Their only firmness seems in
sorts of motion. I am constantly emptied
by their infernal obduration! Cursed forever
to listen to voices inside there is no
steeping back from. Where silence is a
blessed hell.

Clark Coolidge


Blogger Steven Fama said...

I really like these Coolidge pieces -- are these from the book soon-to-come>

8:03 PM  
Blogger Jess said...

Nope. They are really terrific though, no?

9:49 AM  
Blogger Steven Fama said...

Yep, they are terrific.

The observation regarding assimilation being the worst danger fro an artist's work reminds me of Dubuffet's ideas about art brut.

I agree completely with Dubuffet (and Coolidge) -- creative work pushed by the wind from the outside is preferrable to that which sucks from the teats of mainstream culture or institutions.

As these Coolidge excerpts are not from the soon-to-be book, are they from some other published work of his? More directly, where did they come from? And thanks for sharing them.

2:13 PM  
Blogger Jess said...


Agreed. These are from Code of Signals, edited by Michael Palmer. If you google it, it'll turn up. I'd add the link here, but the .PDF takes forever to load on my dialup connection. If you can't find it, drop me an email and I'll send you the link. Chock full of good stuff.


10:10 PM  
Blogger Nicole said...

Hi Jess, Sorry to use this comment forum for other purposes, but I'm not sure how to email you. I have a quick question about contact information in relation to an upcoming Fence Books anthology. If you could email me, that would be great -- coliefence@gmail.com. Thanks!

3:29 PM  

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