Quantum Poetica - First Mother Tongue - lo-res - Billimarie Lubiano Robinson - February 2020

Quantum Poetica: “First Mother Tongue”

The third piece in the “Quantum Poetica” painting series took a life of its own. The typewritten pieces–the poem, the bits of a poem–fit together in a more tangible way than the other two paintings. It is a bit like wrestling, patterning glue with typewritten paper onto acrylic and canvas. Will the typewritten bits peel off? The text fade? I don’t know. I hope it stays.

Quantum Poetica - i do do i i do - lo-res - Billimarie Lubiano Robinson - February 2020

Quantum Poetica: “i do do i i do”

This second piece in the “Quantum Poetica” painting series turned out relatively similar to what I originally envisioned. The title and the meditative spiral made of textured stitches of paint make perfect sense to me. I’m interested in trying this method again with different patterns, different shapes. The black on black, the careful blobs of paint, the sound as the words take shape in your mouth like a mantra singing you home: i do do i i do do i i do do i i do do i–

Quantum Poetica - Actions Birth Sound - lo-res - Billimarie Lubiano Robinson - February 2020

Quantum Poetica: “Actions Birth Sound”

Earlier this month, I was inspired to paint a new series called “Quantum Poetica.” One of my favorite things about creating Typewriter Poetry based paintings is the ability to play with spacing between words. In this way, the simple–the quantum–becomes divine. As much as I love traditional poetry, I love the intuitive flow of abstract painting and concrete poetics. The balance of space and color and weight feels like a much freer exchange. Almost as though the vision for the painting, manifesting in wondrous flux, remains forever light.

Poetry Portraits: “Poem for Ray” (Staten Island)

A creative himself, Ray & I talked about art and painting and music and writing, and all the strings that flow between those mediums, the incredible potential for boundless conversation. Rereading this poem reminds me of the lessons I am currently learning and re-learning while care-taking for my dad: we give it all back, eventually. Why not celebrate for having it in the first place?

Literary Creatures: Philly Fringe Festival 2018

Some performances were long. We raged past the show and burrowed furiously into the night. Other performances were lonely and quiet, intimate, with soft conversation and relaxed acceptance of letting the flow be. On the last night, our voices rose and fell in play with one another, harmonizing at their own accord to the perfect pitches, intervals, frequencies.

Paperback Poetry Festival: June 15th

Paperback Poetry Festival

Today, I’ll be setting up with my typewriter, gifting strangers and friends Free Poetry at the Paperback Poetry Festival. I’ll also have the latest Tiny Epiphany books and zines, including special Limited Edition hardcovers and regular paperbacks.

TONIGHT: Come to the Canoga Park LGBTQ Artwalk (6PM)

Here is where I am calling out all abled allies of Los Angeles: this is your chance. Your chance to put your body where your mouth (er, status update) is. To move away from the computer, away from the phone, away from your wonderfully crafted Facebook posts which condemn gun laws, homophobia, and Islamophobia, and participate in a public demonstration in support of the LGBTQ community.

"So Much Synth" by Brenda Shaughnessy - Poetry Book Review - Billimarie Lubiano Robinson, Typewriter Poetry

Time Traveling into a Well-Kept Room

I remember feeling strange, to be in the town but not of the town. I came across Shaughnessy’s Our Andromeda while quietly stacking inventory for Princeton students in need of textbooks. She was a local poet, working with the Princeton MFA’s Emerging Writers series and teaching at Rutgers. Now, returning back to the east coast, to New Jersey, to Newark–it seemed like the perfect time to read Shaughnessy’s newest poetry book, So Much Synth, during the five hour flight from Los Angeles.

"With Ink" by Billimarie Lubiano Robinson - Typewriter Poetry

Typewriter Poem: “With Ink”

Found out my friend Ryan passed away last year. We met at the Canoga Park Art Walk a few years back…I typed him a poem, he showed me his drawings. Young guy. Potential. We stayed in touch, hanging out and talking, reflecting. The last time we talked, he told me he was focusing on recovery.