A little book I made out of an old card wallet, scraps of paper, and seeds. 

View high resolution

Dislocation. Letterpress printed artist book. 2011.

But this was mine too, another part of my brain says. 

This ground was mine, and also that rock, 

and those waves were mine, and those trees. 

The hurricane winds and rain and flood were mine. 

The sun and the southern cross were mine. 

The food – the fa’i, the ulu, the taro, the nui – were mine. 

Atauloma especially was mine. 

They are yours too.

View high resolution

Dislocation. Letterpress printed artist book. 2011.

I was born on an island.

The island is a point of origin that I have been moving away from for many years. 

I consider and reconsider the ways that it has defined me. 

I make lists, I write poems, I write essay after essay. 

I write down these definitions and then I write new ones over those.

Selected pages from a small book I made using acetone transfers, hand stitching, and laser print text from a wikipedia entry on orchids. 

I’m not sure the surreal pairing of 19th cen reptile prints and the science-babble text really works, but I’m fond of the book anyway. 

View high resolution

Circular Litany, process (part one)

Circular Litany began when I crumpled and scanned the pages of my poetry thesis. Crumpling my poetry was very therapeutic! I liked both the way the crumpling scattered and rearranged the text, and the texture of the crumpled paper.