My writing practice moves between fiction, essay, and field-based reflection — exploring how language shapes experience, memory, and belief.

These texts often extend from the same concerns as my visual and performative works: the interplay between myth and landscape, history and ritual, thought and its physical traces.

The following pages gather recent and ongoing writings — both fictional and reflective — that continue to test the boundaries between narrative, document, and event.

Fiction

My fictional works reimagine historical and mythic material, drawing from folklore, ritual, and language as living artefacts.

These narratives are conceived as Ritual Digital Artefacts — independent editions that inhabit the space between story and document, fiction and fieldwork.

Poetry/Poet-Poetry

My writing moves along the seam between poetry and what I call post-poetry — between invocation and system, between the breath of lyric and the hum of mechanism.

Some texts still follow the trace of the poem: rhythm, address, the pulse of a line unfolding across silence. Others abandon these structures, leaning instead toward repetition, fracture, and erasure. Together they form a continuum in which language behaves as material — not to communicate, but to enact attention.

Post-poetry names a condition rather than a genre. It describes writing that performs rather than represents, where the act of reading or listening becomes part of the work’s event. Meaning is suspended; sense becomes texture. The poem, no longer a container for emotion or narrative, turns into a site of perception — a threshold where the visible and invisible negotiate their terms.

This practice arises from the same concerns that have long shaped my work in art, performance, and pedagogy: the search for a form equal to the instability of experience, and for a language capable of holding what resists articulation. Each text is both utterance and aftermath — a document of what happens when language reaches its limit and continues to vibrate beyond it.

The distinction between poetry and post-poetry is therefore porous. One dissolves into the other. What remains is an attention to how language behaves when stripped of certainty — a grammar of suspension, silence, and return.

Trids

Some of these concerns extend into a body of work I call Trid — a triadic field of text, image, and action.

Trid names a body of work that extends my poetic practice into a triadic field of text, image, and action. Each work gathers these three elements in shifting proportions — sometimes performed through endurance and gesture, sometimes reconstituted from existing documentation, sometimes residing quietly on a page, postcard, or online, where reading itself becomes a performative act.

The Trid operates through renewal and return: older works are revisited and re-inscribed with new textual triads, creating layers of reflection and resonance. Whether enacted, overlaid, published, or read, each Trid occupies the interval between making and marking, surface and utterance — where language behaves materially and performance persists through trace and attention.

Essays, Reflection and Field Writing