Publisher’s Notes 1: Mark Flanigan, a writers bio from behind the mirror
Posted by: lo in Publisher NotesSo, I gathered together the works for the edition, and waiting for me is Mark Flanigan’s new piece, “Self Portrait (Out of the Emptiness)” . Reading and formatting at the same time, I moved across nearly two decades of keeping up with Flangian—author, editor, performance artist, journalist, poet, musician, VOLK and semantikon organizer—and now, when semantikon would seem disarrayed and crestfallen, Flanigan is delivering a new moment—drawing a connection with the spaces between them. a song shared, a mirror clear.
Self Portrait…echoes the breadth of 17 years as I have read, heard and seen Flanigan move— “On the Bus” (the early 90’s) a surealistic dreamscape flourescent lit and flickering across the city as he travels honest, situated by his own best and worst intentions in ways—few others i know are able to summon. I have traveled along side him in the time since “Out of the Nest“, agitated him to convert his laundry day poetic meditations—what he calls “minute poems”, to shape them into book form and have also danced the salmon dance with him. In the time since we have started, I have listened as he has kept his own counsel—-and good council about the scope of journalism for his own generation while iot has been no small matter he has done so, having medicated himself with self-help indiscretions to forge Exile /d across the longitude of two publications, and now it seems clear, as Exile/d moves into its fourth epoch. Linking Flangian’s work on the site, you can find the gristle and see where he moves and how he moves more easily now— two features (one, two), his guest editor slot , his eBook “Minute Poems” all spoken for in Self Portrait(Out of the Emptiness). Presence and negotiations with, damnation, stories of empty barstools where he seats wrinkled ghost and wrinkled sheets instead of lonely nights, intrigues, promises and their hangovers, stock and movement, a bright empty warehouses full of scrap paper, chalk and packet of bic pens. A seat at the second floor window—taunting anyone to ask him to fall out to join the story’s arc.
Common criticism of Flanigan’s work that there are too many names, places and interlopers for all of it make sense—it’s “self-loathing” and “it’s about the drugs”, I disagree and I am sure no one will notice I emphasize, isn’t that what good publishers are supposed to do? There remains a difference between what you are entitled to and what is entitlement. The Flanigan I know, never had any sense someone owes him an audience, so, leave when you need to. The Flanigan I know is no good at controversy, though sometimes he is its counselor— listen or don’t. I wonder when I hear such things—-what is i–t-that a good writer should not know with their body, their meditations and their lives? Who was that I seen leave? Wisdom—-Good writers leave with their audiences.
Flanigan by our numbers…(in lieu of vitae we cant publish as it belongs to someone else)
Nxt to 0 (said: Next to Nothing)
VOLK/c.s.p.i
Exile on Main Street
Semantikon
Fringe Fest
Performance Art series
Exiled From Main Street
Minute Poems
Self Portrait (Out of the Emptiness)…
yesterday we promised some magnolia electric company linkage related to this post…see below for complete lyrics to Blue Chicago Moon…
lo
Publisher
Semantikon.com/Three Fools Press
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