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Signals and gestures create the language of these poems. Noise and grit threaten their survival. Speak up, I tell them, but they’re deaf, can’t hear me–or you either for that matter. Yet they call themselves poems. But what is a poem? Who decides? When the hand knows what it’s doing, is there a problem?
www.printedmatter.org/catalog/64495 www.amazon.com/Deaf-Poems-Rosaire-Appel/dp/B0CR813N5K |
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www.amazon.com/Traces-visual-essay-Rosaire-Appel/dp/B0CHL7DHD7
This visual essay uses marks and numbers instead of words. They are fragments and scraps, shredded ideas, remains that coalesce momentarily before disintegrating further. Active rather than stationary, these are traces of traces whose origins no longer exist. We live among traces - language itself is a trace of the mind’s wanderings. Shadows are traces, as are echoes, photos, memories, thoughts…
hardcover:
www.lulu.com/shop/rosaire-appel/traces-of-traces
This visual essay uses marks and numbers instead of words. They are fragments and scraps, shredded ideas, remains that coalesce momentarily before disintegrating further. Active rather than stationary, these are traces of traces whose origins no longer exist. We live among traces - language itself is a trace of the mind’s wanderings. Shadows are traces, as are echoes, photos, memories, thoughts…
hardcover:
www.lulu.com/shop/rosaire-appel/traces-of-traces
