"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

08 January 2018

Oneiric.


Despite what Archie Bunker said, Edith was never a dingbat.  Dingbat is a printer’s term for a device that divides text, recognizing some pause deeper than the space between paragraphs, but less profound than the full stop at the end of a chapter.  Dingbats dance in the gap.  Dingbats come out in the indecisive twilight.  I made the dingbats used on the following pages with a monster Magic Marker on blank postcards bought at the Tru-Valu Hardware in Provincetown, Massachusetts.  They are greatly reduced from the postcards, and some of them have migrated to the margins of Book IV to relieve the monumental daunt of a long poem.  I don’t guess they’re technically dingbats there. Swimmers.

Dingbats are helpful when you’re not making sustained, connected sense.  Just put in a dingbat, and there’s oneiric coherence.  Dingbats let possibly awkward transitions move in graceful ellipsis.  They should become part of a freshman composition, and children could make them new as they learn penmanship.

Coleman Barks, from the Preface to The Soul of Rumi

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