picking figs in the ̥̞̞̊̽̽ͯ garden while my world eats Itself • New work by Katie Rose Pipkin • June 12th - July 1st, 2015
this nest was right there- principles, objects
It was egg-shaped, buckwheat, a distance, (it is thought on the
Letters felt it, the intricacies of a step discovery.
One to pull myself composition,
It dawned other screens.
They certainly feel something here, have boarded Now, little
islands of an ambiguous same.
"warm", "cold", their numerical value,
their inscriptions, meaning in only tiniest fragment,
the letters themselves as physicists
a blue dome
surprised by verses.
You and I have carried this into the open country.
the white cube of letters and a folded flame.
They divided the moment, the will of the matter.
The correct facing away from the sun.
a little dozing plane.
picking figs in the ̥̞̞̊̽̽ͯ garden while my world eats Itself is a curatorial poetry collaboration with a large number of algorithms, bots, generators, and code snippets. Using a shifting set of parameters to define possible poem shapes in a letter-as-atomic-particle ruleset, these programs dissect and reassemble language according to a set of meanings intrinsic to their existence but opaque from a human viewpoint.
Katie Rose Pipkin was born in Austin, Texas in the fall of 1990. She makes drawings with her hands, the internet, and language- sometimes that of machines, and sometimes words of her own. Here is a series of symbols that looks like a field of flowers. ↾! ᵳ≀ 〴❧❀१✾឴〳ノ〳❊⎝.
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