By John Brockman

A thorough, experimental paintings that demanding situations the bounds of poetry, philosophy, and technology. First released in 1969, this new and extended variation of John Brockman’s first booklet, by way of The overdue John Brockman, additionally comprises the total textual content of 37 (1971), and Afterwords (1973).

This version incorporates a new foreword through Hans Ulrich Obrist, co-director of the Serpentine Gallery and writer of the way of Curating.

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Sample text

He who kicked dogs in anger when I was a child, who liked his comb always on the same shelf, who drank martinis to make his mind quiet. He who worked and worked—his shirts wrapped in plastic, his heart ironed like a collar. He who—like so many men— loved his children but thought the money he made for them was more important than the rough tweed of his presence. The love of my father’s later years is a Golden Retriever—more red than yellow—a nervous dog who knows his work clothes from his casual ones, can read his creased face, who waits for him at the front door—her paws crossed like a child’s arms.

Faith’s Day, in the wisdom of Dove’s eggs and early tulips. Years before my birth my mother fasted all Midsummer’s Eve and, at night, lay a lace cloth near a window. She spread bread and ale on a plate and opened a screened door to the wind. I came into the room: her future daughter, her one true love, and the toast we drank was to a mutual unknown. Later, in a hospital, under lights and drugs, my face swam towards hers like an eel’s and she said she would have known me anywhere. I was not raised in the thin pews of a church.

Sometimes we stand in the bedroom and the cat walks towards us like a message. Sometimes we pick dandelions from the garden and watch their white heads blow open in our hands. We are learning to fish in the river of sorrow; we are undressing for a swim. [30] MAGIC I learned the secrets from a dark smelling book in the old country. I know the shape of wild geese in the sky of my dreams means I will marry more than once. Should rain fall on a blue summer day and the shower is over even as it begins this betokens the luck of a fox’s wedding and any wish I make will come true.

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