hello Jesse-!
it just so haps–
i have happened
to be working with haptic
poetry
in various ways–
since i use found materials and clay impressions and make rubBeings all these aspects of my works are haptic–they all involve direct touch-and touch often guides the works–
they think themselves
through touch
i have made a lot of pieces in which i mixed in with the paints all sorts of found materials having a myriad different textures to them–in this way, pieces make use of felt touched textures to bring new dimensions in into the reading/hearing/seeing of pieces–
i think of the way one’s hands play on bark–as though an instrument, stringed–the emergiing sounds and images that come via touch–
with the rubBEings, many things i make it is touch that has brought them into being following the ways they take–the touch guides–literally “poimts the way”–
i follow along sometimes with eyes shut moving lumber crayon along the paper which is pressed to the surfaces–of wood, metal, plastics, glass, etc etc–one feels the grains or blemishes knots rust corrosions–the touch of these is what is making its touch onto the paper–
the varying touchs of materials make for differing ways in which the rubBEings form and the thickness or lightnesses of them on paper–
also with the clay impressions–i carry clay about with me and make impressions of letterings, obects, forms–then spray paint these and press onto paper–thickness of paint, its responses to the materials in their topologies as they touch the paper and map themselves touching through the paint in ways different from the touch of them to the hands–
these create textures all their own–thicknesses–spashes—mixes–washes
using other materials than paint makes for differing touch, textures–stage blood, water color, acyrlic, nail polish, ink, model car paints, house paints–just about anything one has found–
have also experimented with using tars–fresh atrs found various places–creosote have trede–shellacs-anything that will make for a textured surface, so that it is anything but flat–and via touch–with eyes closed or open–the hand dreams–goes into reveries–lord knows it might even hallucinate!–
through time and literaly with each piece–one learns more and more a poetry of touch–to feel the pieces one uses–is an other experience than seeing–one learns as it were to see via the hands, shape, touch-how these become images, letterings–as what one sees at first–via the touch–becomes something other–it is not a direct copy so to speak–it is like copy art–yet the visual aspects of the first are not those entirely which emerge via the touch–so that what may have begun as a form of copying becomes other–transpositions–other tongues–
all this can be shifted changed continualy even within one stroke–by differing pressures of the hands on the differing pressures back of the objects letterings forms on the other side of the page-
and ways , angles, in which on eholds the lumber crayon–and as well the speeds with which one moves–the hands holding the crayon
these can explore the resistences and erasings–gaps–blotted spots– of the letterings, forms–going more swiftly, things appear via this touch that are not the same as via a slower rubEing–
even the surfaces of rubBEings differ from one to the other and within themselves–and the same with the paintings–to run the fingers over them, one feels the differing thicknesses, the smoothnesses and rougher areas–
these convey not only images–but emotions–powerfully
often i begin with a feeling–and work fromthere–
and eventually the emotions of the materials begin to come through–and my own are–disapated and vanishes into the waters of the feelings of touch–emotions of touch–the singings of forms, surafces, textures–these come through–and become what it being felt and expressed–
the intial emotions of myself are no longer there–i move into a different space within–as more andmore moving outwo/ards–via the touch–beyond the seeing into new realms–

i think also that each person’s hands being different, they will feel differing poems this way–one hand may be softer another rougher or one may have nerve damages that dull the touch–another is sensitive due to injury sunburn a myriad things–soft skin unused to rough surfaces or people who have no real awareness of touch –”out of touch”!–begin to learn–
touch is very important to me as too often with language letterings visual poetry–things move away from the physical become more abstract–theoretical–ironically names like “concrete” and “material language” etc–become abtsractions, far removed from the touch of concrete, of materials-
the things i make have become so invovled with touch–that i realize i am but at the very begining of learning, of a lifetime of learinng–the poetries of touch–
the last two weeks i have been working primarily on rubBEings of telephone poles–to run ones hands along the letterings that are burnt into them–feel these–and then find the ways they come through on paper–the thicknesses, and what iti s the eye may see that does not come through via touch and vice versa-
also continually using hands like this one begins to feel sounds–
soundings–within these surfaces, their forms, arcs, lines, breakages, knots, swirls, the depths of the in-between areas–among the ridged–the wearings of the weather—
some poles i have come to know quite intimately one might say!–and also rocks–stones–various dumpsters–trees, old cars–walls–broken down doors–window ledges–pipes, police call boxes, machineeries, plaques–
but the wood of late has been one that most draws me–and then draws itself so to speak
i continually feel deeply grateful to be embarked on these travels, for al around one to be found–is haptic poetry–for years now–learning so many areas of city by touch–and understanding how things begin to express themslves via the haptic methods–
it is continaully new–
the materials are everywhere–
even when in a 90 day facility with next to nothing to work with (to the eye–), began to find on the contrary a myriad things to work with–as i would close eyes and explore with fingers–what might be there–to make rubBEings of–and so forms continually emerged–
just now in lobby area where some work going on–no one there at the moment–i close the eyes and begin to move my fingers and hands along surfaces–finding texttures, letterings indentations, markings made by things colliding with walls, scratches-etec etc–finding a myriead things not always apprendable by the eye–and then other things which they ey picks up immediately–yet the touch finds are quite different–
the world continually opens the more senses one makes use of, learns from, and it is going on every moment everywhere–
i often feel extraordinarily happy to have found these freedoms–opening al around one–
to be able to walk about in the world as a place of happenings which may express themselves –to recognize–these–the notations which one moves among–feel them come through the paper–surging with their thought, their dreams–humors unknown before–things never before seen–
via touch began to be freed of the boundaries of the pre-conceived–
the hand also dreams–touch also sings–the things think themselves–
yes, i am thankful–for all of this!–the continaul unexpected, the uncanny recognitions–
haptic poetries–
david-baptiste chirot