Andrey Remnev, “Rags,” 2020
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Yesterday I listened to a recording of a poetry workshop I had registered for last year, whose replay had somehow gotten lost in my email (hello, Mercury direct!) In this class (which is hosted by an amazing collective called Poetry Forge, if you’re interested), we spoke of a form called Zuihitsu, which in Japanese means to follow the will of the brush.
This poetic form began as a humble series of diary entries, not necessarily meant for public eyes. It evolved through periods of social chaos in Japan, eventually becoming a modality favored by those intellectuals who chose a life of asceticism, recognizing the impermanence of material things.
Paradoxically, in recognizing the impermanence of material things, we become keenly attuned to the material.
Everything flattens and becomes non-hierarchical. A poem can be written about a leaf on the ground as easily as an intangible philosophy or ideal. And indeed, which is the truer form of communication?