Abecedarium:NYC

Abecedarium co-director and contributor In Choi ponders the relationship between Islamic and Western culture through a fascinating and poetic examination of literature and lived experience.

Read In's essay and join the conversation at AbecedariumNYC.org!

Yashmak, Xenogenesis, Algorithm, and William S. Burroughs - abecedarium:nyc I took this photo while walking on The High Line last September. I started wondering what the Arabic sentence meant only when I looked at the photo recently reminiscing about the pleasure of walking in a crowded area. With the miracle of Internet, I was able to quickly find out that it was an instal...

In a gorgeous meditation on fragility – of self, object, and time – AbecedariumNYC contributor Karen Sztajnberg turns a kitchen catastrophe into a tender and sensitive ode to human resilience.

With generosity, Sztajnberg reminds us that "Some things have to be scarred before we can feed off their resilience."

Klutzing While Isolated - abecedarium:nyc Loud drop. Pointy shards. Billowy teal. A short pile of small ceramic cups fell on my counter, shattering in irreconcilable little pieces. One of them, the tallest, was already a patched-up ceramic cup glued together. I had relished in my little experiment in kintsugi, the Japanese art of rendering....

"Is the city speaking to us as we move through it? Showing us little treasures if we take the time to look?" wonders Rodrigo Alonzo whose bibliomancy manifests itself in poems, songs, and writings.

Rodrigo reminds us of the beauty of words – found, collected, discovered, sought – and how these contains of meaning can inspire us in our daily lives.

The Power of the Word - abecedarium:nyc Somewhere along the line I learned that random finds can prove to be inspirational. As a young songwriter, I had a breakthrough with the word “Topeka”. It was written on the back of an old family photo. Though I had visited my Kansan relatives in that city a few times, the mystery of the word .....

Abecedarium contributor Erik Shurink shares a topical haiku as we collectively transition into a world where covering our faces is essential to the safety of our communities and city at large.

Haiku: YASHMAK et al. - abecedarium:nyc Rodrigo Alonzo says: May 23, 2020 at 9:08 am There are no atheists in foxholes. (some kind of cousin to your excellent haiku) Reply

Abecedarium contributor Rodrigo Alonzo finds himself followed by a familiar song. It materializes from childhood in newfound silence...

"In addition to the visual image of the sunset, the birdsong evokes a kind of Greek chorus for me. “I’m still here,” it tells me. “Remember your childhood?” it asks. “Who do you think you are?” Hearing this simple voice is my personal Rosebud or madeleine. It’s some kind of ghost that is simultaneously comforting and haunting.

What sounds are evocative of memory for you? Share your thoughts by joining the conversation at AbecedariumNYC.org

A Voice From the Woods - abecedarium:nyc by Rodrigo Alonzo A few weeks ago I was sitting on my porch in Kensington enjoying a quiet morning. This was in the beginning of the quarantine so there was the occasional passing car but mostly everything was still. Suddenly a call sounded; not too loud, but distinct. It was a voice I’ve known my...

Abecedarium contributor Erik Schurink find poetry everywhere he looks.

Stacking and rearranging books offers insight and wisdom as their titles compose lyrical verses. The bibliomancy of these puzzle poems are shockingly beautiful and whimsically amusing.

Check them out and share your own on AbecedariumNYC.org

The Night Window. BIBLIOMANCY or VATICINATION? - abecedarium:nyc On Thursday, February 27th, I waited to board my plane to Minneapolis, at LaGuardia. To kill time, I went, as I often do, to look for books, to stack a poem with the titles sold there, gently rearranging the bookshelves. Browsing the shelves at CIBO Express, this poem emerged: The Night Window Since...

During our collective shelter-in-place, we become more aware of our own behaviors– our daily rituals and routines, the things that help us maintain a sense of normalcy.

Abecedarium contributor Karen Sztajnberg shares a part of her daily rituals in her latest post:
"I mark my ongoing aliveness by getting washed, combed, dressed and now, bejeweled. Some people cling on to organization, others productivity, I stick to being presentable. Presentation is interlocution, and interlocution assumes others. Today, phantasmagorical others. This is my week alone while my kid is with his dad. I have to emulate otherness, and I do...."

What things keep you going?

Last Night a Necklace Saved My Life - abecedarium:nyc Two rising mediatic phenomena and a new use for vanity are tiding me over the losses.

Abecedarium contributor Erik Schurink sees a pigeon on his windowsill wonders, "Is my pigeon a harbinger of wildlife getting a bit bolder in making inroads back into Brooklyn to reclaim what their forefathers had to abandon when the settlers first started taking down trees to build homes to build new lives here for themselves and their families?"

Have you noticed any changes in your neighborhood since we've started to shelter-in-place? Share them with us on www.AbecedariumNYC.org!

Would it be the INQUILINE? Or is it I who is? - abecedarium:nyc During a Zoom Qigong class I stared out the window and saw a pigeon landing on the window’s frieze. Once perched I saw only its tale which had my attention for the few seconds it sat there cooing. I love the cooing—a homey, yet outdoorsy sound. Despite the moment of joy, the sight and sound … ...

"I left on that afternoon. The sunflowers on Thames street saw me moving three suitcases.
The sunflowers were in the sunlight.
The train ran to the underground.
How can the sunflowers and the train meet?
I had never seen sunflowers when I took train."

Filmmaker Lingyun Zheng shares stunning moving images from a reimagined transit system. Flashing sunflowers and visceral sound take us for a quick journey to a magical place.

sunflowers - abecedarium:nyc I left on that afternoon. The sunflowers on Thames street saw me moving three suitcases. The sunflowers were in the sunlight. The train ran to the underground. How can the sunflowers and the train meet? I had never seen sunflowers when I took train.

In his 1974 work ‘I Like America and America Likes Me’, Joseph Beuys "arrived in NYC refused to set his feet down on American soil. Blindfolded, he saw nothing other than an actual coyote that was inside the gallery with him the entire time." Beuys' quarantine was an act of protest against American involvement in the Vietnam War.

"Now during this time of Corona Virus shelter, we can revisit Beuys’ prescient work once again, finding ourselves in isolation, and wanting to express our own anger at the country where we would normally be living. We are INQULINES, temporary inhabitants of a shelter that may or may not protect us."

"Clot becomes scab. Scab protects. Healing begins."

Erik Schurink imagines the many ways in which we are attempting to begin the process of healing during the time of COVID-19.

RETE: Mix things up - abecedarium:nyc In case of flesh wound, blood will clot.Fibrin (a thread-like protein) forms network. It dries up.Clot becomes scab. Scab protects. Healing begins.Dear earth, may it be so. May we let it happen. Dear you… Drink water. Mix up your life. Eat your veggies. Hug a tree. Call one another. Near and far...