A Typewriter Poetry poem called "Typewriter Poem" by Andrew Treneer Pitman.

“Typewriter Poem” by Andrew Treneer Pitman

Technoautobiography is a piece which travels through intellectual abstraction, personal narrative, and philosophical quotes by way of a simple college essay format and an editor’s touch of red blue ink. You come away from his Technoautobiography relating to the repetitive desire to “put words on paper,” whether that is through the means of a computer, a fountain pen, or–in this particular case–a typewriter.

Beyond Words: Princeton Library’s Fall Benefit

Captivated by conversation, tapas and wine, attendees were enthralled by the night. In a literary wonderland reflected through timeless glass, everyone bubbled. Princeton Library celebrations were led by live classical music, auctions, vendors, food, dancing, and free poetry. I’m honored Typewriter Poetry played a small role in the enchantment, even if it was for one night (and one night, only).

Meeting Mika (& Mobius Percussion)

Mobius Percussion is a group of four innovative musicians coming together to build something spectacular as they ascend into the realm of performance and art. Their renditions are visceral vesper reminders from long forgotten dreams. I was taken by their music to a multitude of places…I was, and continue to be, enthralled by the lofty experience Mobius offers.

Artisanal LA: Autumn 2014

The Reef was full of passionate foodies and crafty vendors; what an inspiring mix of people to collide into. Every isle you meandered down beckoned you with some sensually stimulating substance. Scented spices, meats and cheeses–even goats! They nibbled you softly when you went over to say hello.

Los Angeles Makerspaces…and Conductak

Most of the people I typed for at last year’s Artisanal LA event have blurred together in memory. Even still, there is one fellow I have no intention of ever forgetting. He came over with a friend. She wandered off to take pictures as he and I began to talk. At first, we did the basic Typewriter Poetry dance. He asked about the project, I answered with my usual bases covered. Soon, something shifted. He sat down on the floor. I halted my work on another person’s poem. We dove into our hitchhiking and traveling stories; afterward, he shared his love of robotics and electronics with me.

A Poem for Ophelia

Ophelia–also known as “Killer Rabbit”–is the one in the blue #15 helmet. That evening, she moved in a way that reminded me of my younger self. An untouched sure-footedness which, I think now, stems from being oblivious of your own confidence. It’s something tough. Lasting. The aura before you discover what awkwardness really means.