Tuesday, December 01, 2009

The law of unintended consequences

Things go where they aren’t expected to.

This ought to be a universal law, up there with a-body-in-motion-tends-to-stay-in-motion, but it seems to get forgotten a lot. I’ve been thinking of it a lot lately. In part because of coming changes at the Pew Fellowships that people seem to think will ruin the art world, and in part because, as a teacher, I fret about doing more harm than good. Maybe I was clueless as a young man (okay, I was clueless) but I don’t remember thinking that what a course taught had to be contained within the fourteen or sixteen weeks I was taking it. I thought it was all about what happened afterwards, when things go where they aren’t expected.

But some of the unintended consequences I’ve observed in the last few years have me especially worried. When I heard conservatives employing the kind of theoretical architecture that makes my work interesting as justifications for their actions, I wonder about that genie getting out of his bottle. But the one that keeps me up at night is about the art world, and how it’s moving in so many interesting directions. Or should I say, so many directions I should find interesting but don’t. They don’t interest me. They worry me.

The latest example comes from the Blake Gopnik in the Washington Post. He describes going to an exhibit of Chinese terra cotta figures at Washington’s National Geographic Museum. You know the sort – thousands were buried in imperial tombs 2,000 or more years ago. The show, as Gopnik describes it sounds like a nightmare:
Overall, visiting this exhibition feels like walking through a pop-up version of a fascinating article in National Geographic magazine -- one of those photo spreads that have more sidebars than text.

Gopnik, like a good college-educated critic, goes off on Benjamin and the idea of the aura, but misses the real horror of what he’s just written. What one sees when one sees this exhibit is not the things one went to see, but the idea and history -- embodied in writing -- that surrounds them.

It’s easy to believe the exhibit is a kind of elaborate magazine article. The vast majority of exhibits I see are like heinous, overwrought term papers, made without love or enthusiasm, as if because of the existence of a deadline. (Worse yet, they're statements...what could be more bloodless and bureaucratic than a statement?) And the killer is that I used to think of exhibits as arguments or essays, and that I must have said this a million times in classes and crits. That I didn’t mean bloodless, boring things that bypass what really matters or subjugate the act of looking to the act of reading was a given. But perhaps it wasn’t heard that way. Perhaps I’ve unintentionally contributed to the mess we find ourselves in now.

Now I know the National Geographic Museum is not an art museum, and that exhibits all have different purposes, variously didactic or sensuous (and wouldn’t be friggin’ cool if they could be sensuously didactic or something? But that’s another thing…). But what bothers me is that as the pendulum of exhibiting swings toward greater intellectual engagement (yum..after all, the eye is a part of the mind) it’s swinging away from the pleasures of objects, preferring to ‘reference’ them (or some equally hideous, stale action as arid as 'reference').

One cannot practice art education like one practices medicine (above all, do no harm) because moving students out of their comfort zone is a huge part of the job and it may be unexpectedly dangerous. But one can certainly try to do more good than harm. I am generally optimistic about change. It stirs things up. But soon after change, artists and designers will learn to read the system and will undermine the positive effects of transformation and turn it into a new and dull status quo. Maybe the thing to do is try to teach people never to be satisfied with what is out there…

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Winner take out



My seven year old son thinks McDonald’s is a toy store.

He thinks this because every time he goes there, he gets a toy. That’s not why I take him there – I take him because we can get something to eat. Because the meal is so forgettable (mere nutrition – such as it is at fast food restaurants) is not a big concern to seven-year olds. It’s all about the toys.

I bring this up because Ed Sozanski’s rant about the “sudden efflorescence of art competitions”, focusing on the West Prize, the Wolgin Prize, and ArtPrize, with occasional swipes at the Pew Fellowships in today’s Inquirer made me think of it. Just like my son and I think of McDonald’s differently, artists and audiences approach the question of prizes differently. I wouldn’t want readers to think Mr. Sozanki’s was the only way to consider the problem of art prizes, so I wanted to address a few points in his column.

As anyone even remotely acquainted with this history of criticism might expect, Mr. Sozanski lamented the selections for these awards. Wolgin winner Ryan Trecartin was “visually bizarre, and cacophonous to the point of felonious assault”. The Dufala brothers possess a “novelty quotient [that] was off the charts”. Reasonable people can disagree about such things, and do so without mentioning how familiar one another’s arguments for or against certain art are. Dead end – next topic.

“Giving a quarter-million dollars, or even $150,000, to a single person is inherently ridiculous and risibly unfair to the thousands of talented artists who are equally deserving of recognition and support,” Mr. Sozanski writes. Such Palin-esque populism might play well in an election, but the art world has never been a democracy. As Wolgin-finalist Sanford Biggers pointed out when speaking to Tyler students, $150,000 isn’t a lot of money in today’s art market, though it means a lot for artists who have little commercial viability (read: people who don’t make paintings or photographs). Spread that over the years of work the finalists – including Trecartin – have invested in their production and it begins to look like a barely break-even proposition. More than a few recipients of large fellowships have told me that what looks like a huge amount of money…let’s use $50,000 as an example…doesn’t have the enormous impact one might expect it to when it’s taxed at an extremely high rate and spread over two years. Even the largest awards basically allow artists to give up one of their many jobs…temporarily. The amount of ink wasted fretting over the scale of prizes acknowledging years of artistic labor that hardly amount to a year’s bonus on Wall Street indicates little more than the laziness of the media.

Where I can agree with Mr. Sozanski is on the way prizes have adversely affected artists’ lives by rewarding careerism…and weirdly, here’s where large juried prizes can make a difference. These days, nearly every art school has to offer a ‘professional practices’ course to help its students write the statements and prepare the slides (...or CDs of jpegs) required by granting agencies. It should come as no surprise that some students (and artists) excel in such clerical tasks while others are more adept in the studio, making work. The shift from application-driven processes to jurying for large awards may indicate a seismic shift in professional practice. Artists may actually be recognized for the work they do, not for their ability to get an application in on time. Exhibitions might start matters as much as or (gasp!) even more than the documentation of them. Artists might forced to become genuinely articulate about their work because the conversation they have about it might be with someone who can recommend them for an award.

It is fashionable right now to fear juries, to think of them as cabals of insiders who will reward only other insiders. The fact is that application-driven processes discriminate against a number of artists who look at the outcomes of major competitions and say, “Well, if that’s what wins, I’m not even going to apply.” Responsible juries that include artists can remedy that.

Because at the end of the day, these prizes exist to help artists and audiences. They support artists (however incompletely) and recognize both genuine achievements and the potential in emerging talent. For audiences, they bring artists into regional – even global – spotlights while placing them under the lens of criticism where they can succeed or fail. Mr. Sozanski challenges us to look up Ryan Trecartin in five years, implying that he’ll be serving lattes someplace. Has the writer looked at the roster of emerging artists, alums of Vox or Nexus, who have gone on to outstanding careers? Did they do that because they got prizes or fellowships? No! They succeeded because they worked like mad and have talent. The prizes didn’t hurt, though.

I got out of criticism for two reasons. Jousting with Ed Sozanski quickly becomes dull. But the main reason is that after a few years in journalism, I found it hard to avoid making stories into binary constructions – pitting two opposing forces against each other and (if I was fair minded) letting readers decide for themselves. The truth is that things – especially when it comes to art - are always a lot more complicated than that. It’s never either/or…more often both/and. When we go to McDonald’s, my son eats, gets a toy, and we spend time together. It’s food, prizes, and a whole lot more.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

very stuck in mind...

I think about this story a lot...not so much as a way to teach or as a lesson itself, but a reason to teach art.



Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Studio Visits

I'm starting to prepare a lecture series on artists' studios, so I photograph everyone's studio I go to. Yesterday, I saw graduate students at the University of the Arts MFA programs in Ceramics, Painting and Sculpture. Here they are in their studios...


John Thompson

Christine Colby

Tiernan Alexander

Alejandro Mendel

Andrew Walker

Matt Ziegler

Heather Peiters

Martha Ferguson

Karen Joan Topping

Renee Cortese

Sally Echoff

Teresa Palmer

Monday, June 29, 2009

What makes a critic?


This is a perennial debate and one that I have tried to clip comments on and keep track of. I have to say this latest exchange (between the Guardian's Johnathon Jones and Minnesota Orchestra's Sam Bergman) is kinda disappointing. Perhaps it's because it happens in blogs, where so much is truncated or overly general to start with. (How's that for general?) But perhaps it's because neither of them appears to be advancing an especially interesting argument.

Jones seems to think that trusting his gut and being loud is enough. Bergman is content to point out that it may not be in this polyphonic age. But neither of them seems to get at the reason there might be criticism in the first place - because art and music and theater and cinema and all manner of cultural production are things to talk about. The most interesting things in such conversations are often said by those who are deeply knowledgeable of the history and traditions of the area, invested in maintaining a high level of quality (or in attaining one), and thoughtful and attentive about the specific work under discussion. That doesn't discount the possibility that a newcomer to the conversation might have something insightful to say, or that someone from outside its usual boundaries mightn't have something to offer. I think those things happen all the time (that's why I talk to anybody who wants to talk about art). But those are unusual events that depend on an individual's sensitivity and eloquence, whereas knowledge, investment, and attentiveness are skills that can be sharpened.

I am interested in circulating one idea of Jones - in his blog posting he writes:
The reason so much average or absolutely awful art gets promoted is that no one seems to understand what criticism is; if nothing is properly criticised [sic], mediocrity triumphs.
This is an interesting notion. One that hints at a 'proper' way to criticize art that could be beneficial to artists (it wouldn't be construed as mere opinion) as well as audiences (who suddenly have a responsible role in making art better by criticizing it).

For a few years, I've taught graduate seminars in criticism. Every time I teach a studio class, I stress to my students that its' not enough to make your own art - you must contribute to the discussion of others (that, to me is how art is made out of mere images and objects...but talking about them as if they were important). I would be interested in anyone else's thoughts on what constitutes "proper" criticism...

Monday, June 22, 2009

..One more silly thing on 'Moby Dick'

I have been meaning to do this for a while. In Microsoft Word, there's a tremedously silly feature called 'AutoSummarize' that condenses long texts into shorter versions. It can be set to highlight key points or spit out summaries of various lengths. It's a hoot.

I put in Chapter 42 of Melville's Moby Dick and told it I wanted a summary that was 5% of the original text. Here's what it gave me:

What the white whale was to Ahab, has been hinted; what, at times, he was to me, as yet remains unsaid.

Witness the white bear of the poles, and the white shark of the tropics; what but their smooth, flaky whiteness makes them the transcendent horrors they are? As for the white shark, the white gliding ghostliness of repose in that creature, when beheld in his ordinary moods, strangely tallies with the same quality in the Polar quadruped. Bethink thee of the albatross, whence come those clouds of spiritual wonderment and pale dread, in which that white phantom sails in all imaginations? As Abraham before the angels, I bowed myself; the white thing was so white, its wings so wide, and in those for ever exiled waters, I had lost the miserable warping memories of traditions and of towns. Goney! never! Most famous in our Western annals and Indian traditions is that of the White Steed of the Prairies; a magnificent milk-white charger, large-eyed, small-headed, bluff-chested, and with the dignity of a thousand monarchs in his lofty, overscorning carriage. It is that whiteness which invests him, a thing expressed by the name he bears. For Lima has taken the white veil; and there is a higher horror in this whiteness of her woe.
Yipes. If you jack it up to 10%, you get the sentence "It was the whiteness of the whale that above all things appalled me", which is also in the first paragraph.

Word Clouds

I saw a mention of Wordle online some place and really liked the image it made of Moby Dick. I used chapter 42 - the Whiteness of the Whale - because I'm familiar with it. Here's a screen shot (the program's sharing capacities are pretty cruddy). You might want to play with it. I suggest having a heap of words ready...say a letter you've written or something like that. Be sure to mess with all the options in the menu...
enjoy!

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Lincoln - on video

This one came from artist Shawn Beeks - more Lincoln leads welcome any time...

Findings 2 - Looking at Lincoln

Here's a little more from the Lincoln picture file...

More Lincoln in the afterlife... D. T. Weist, In Memory of Abraham Lincoln: The Reward of the Just, 1865
Avenging Lincoln from The Simpsons...

It's show time...

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Recent Research - Looking at Lincoln

Lately, I've been thinking about the Civil War for a bit of writing I have to do. Thus, I've been thinking of Lincoln. What with the bicentennial of is birth this year, I'm obviously not alone. Here are some of the images I've turned up in the routine process of looking for things I go through as I start doing research...I though others might be amused...

One of my favorite images of Lincoln is this print of the Apotheosis of Lincoln. I'm gathering similar images and will post them shortly...

I came across this one looking for "Lincoln Vampire" on Google...I think of it as the Lincolnator

From an episode of Star Trek (The Savage Curtain) in which Lincoln visits the Enterprise...well an alien disguised as Lincoln...who's trying to enlist Kirk and Spock's help in a battle on his home world with Ghengis Kahn and others...oh never mind...

LA Artist Trek Kelly gives a new spin on proclaiming emancipation.
Frank Wu imagines a Lunar Lincoln...who's also a zombie.

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

That's how the story goes

Just a pointer today; I wanted to call out about Jessica Helfand's post about narrative on Design Observer. I am looking at my students' projects on narrative and I doubt I was convincing to them as I tried to argue that its return to contemporary art is one of the most important aspects of the art of our time. Wish I'd seen this first.

Oh, and it makes me feel vindicated about asking my students to give the 'elevator pitch' for their thesis papers...

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

A digression on zombies (still not about life)

Up front - let me totally clear about this - I like zombies as much as the next guy. I've always been more of an aliens-person, it's true, but zombies are okay.

So don't take my following comments on Adam Cohen's New York Times Op-Ed Mr. Darcy Woos Elizabeth Bennet While Zombies Attack as some kind of anti-zombie rant. I've got no problem with the undead.

It's not even Seth Grahame-Smith's riff on Jane Austen that has me out looking for brains. It's thinking about the book as a cultural phenomenon and how it relates to the use of others' words images and ideas.

But first, about mash ups. When Cohen calls Pride and Prejudice and Zombies a mash up, some kind lexicographer's alarm goes off in my head. To me that's like saying gin and tonic is a mash up. What does the New York Times know from mash ups anyway? A lot it turns out. They've used the phrase more than 3000 times (Wired.com has on 1080 uses since 2006...which sounds awfully light...but they're good, as in when they talked to DJ Spooky in 2007). When I think mash up, I think about two or more things fused into a new whole in such a way that the component parts are still distinguishable. Somehow, the at of combining these parts has something to say about each part - it helps us see it in a new light or understand it better.

At first, I don't think of
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies that way - mostly because it's a specific work plus a genre of other works. So It's not like a gin and tonic, it's more like chicken nuggets with teryaki sauce...something is added to the chicken nugget to give it a general flavor. That could be anything, the distinction to me seems to reside in whether it's two individual things which bring their histories and contexts to the strange union that is a mash up, or whether it's partly made of specific and general ingredients...

...and I'm not sure what's the case with
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. What's really interesting to me is how it has proliferated through a variety of conversations. When I used to teach art criticism, I had my students read a whole year of an art magazine to see what outlets covered what artists first. When we looked over a year, we could chart the trickledown of an artist from elite publications with smaller circulations to more mass-market outlets. Ideas would shift and blur as they moved through the discourse... it's kind of cool to watch.

But
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies seems to be everywhere all at once. It's an exciting shift in how things work - appearing suddenly in a lot places at one time, the book seems to have achieved the kind of viral velocity that people love to imagine happening but which seldom really occurs.

Of course, to me the great fun of this is that all of this involves telling an old story through another kind of story. What it's about is storytelling and how a story is affected by bringing it into another genre. It's not about life, it's about how stories work. But more on that in our next post.

Me, I'd be okay if it were aliens. But zombies will do. Like I said, nothing against zombies.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Not About Life, Pt. 1

Inspired largely by Judith Schaechter's excellent post on her 'Late Breaking Noose' blog, I wanted to talk a write a little about others' images and ideas and how these things fit into my work lately.

But where Judith's observations were prompted by thoughts on authenticity, I'm more interested in looking at the related ideas of authorship and authority. The art world, as always a reflection of the world around it, has been comically obsessed with authenticity for years (if one more person tells me they're trying to "keep it real" I will not be held responsible for my actions). In 2005, TheoryLab convened a reading group on the subject. But what's the relationship between one image and another similar image made by another person for another purpose? Or between an image we all know and another that tries to glom on to the status of the original?

To address these questions, I want to bring in some things I was thinking about when Jane Irish asked me to come to the ICA to be part of a night of discussion and demonstrations about the Dirt on Delight show.

Jane was at my studio talking about the program and offhandedly remarked that we both use others' writing in our work. Perhaps because this is so central to me, I stopped thinking about it. Perhaps it was because there are wildly different degrees of legibility about what we do it hadn't occurred to me that we had this in common. At the time, I was reading Hillel Schwartz's odd and wonderful book, The Culture of the Copy: Striking Likenesses, Unreasonable Facsimiles, and a light clicked on.

Schwartz's (to me entirely reasonable) theory is that we live in a world that is dominated by duplicates, and it is through repetition that meaning is made. The unique object, he suggests, poses a challenge to contemporary culture, which obsesses about clones and copies, pirated and authorized. He cunningly covers camouflage's peculiar relation to the nature it simulates, the attraction of re-enactments, and a dozens of other details.

A particular passage, about the formerly feminine word 'typewriter', caught my attention with regard to Jane's use of text:

Women: who knew how to handle carbon paper so that it would not smudge or wrinkle. Whose use of Lebbeus H. Roger's new one-sided carbon paper in typewriters supplant the copying presses and bound letterpress books with their wetted sheets of tissue copies interspersed with protective but messy oiled paper. Whose ability to produce good clean copies simultaneously with a good clean original was, as historian W.B. Proudfoot has argued, "an outstanding step in the history of copying" (227).

An outstanding step in the history of copying? Wait - there's a histroy of copying that is not based on forgery and fakery? What Schwartz gets to - and what I think Jane's work alerts me to - is the labro invovled in copying and transcription. In Schwartz, there's also something interesting about the gendering of that labor, too.

I often see my own work as an act of faithless transcription. If I cannot be true to the texts I refer to, what authority do I have as their transcriptionist or translator? A great deal of what I'm interested in doing comes down to how alligning yourself with the words and images of others puts you close to the power of these things..a power possibly derived from authenticity.
When we were talking about, Jane was making notes on an email message. After our conversation, I asked for her notes so I could think about it more. In the margin of a paragraph about her work she'd written the phrase not about life, which struck me as perfect for what interested me about this observation she'd made. Here was an idea not about keeping it real or making an authentic expressive statement or being sincere (whatever any of that might mean). Here was an idea about taking part in an ongoing dialog with others about a body of images and idea outside ourselves, a tradition that we could volunteer to participate in, one that could be learned and absorbed - accessed not through exceptional biography or suffering but through reflection and work. What Jane Irish is doing - and what I'd like to do - is make art that enlarges life's experiences, not only describes it.

Of course, this may sound like appropriation. But it's not really...for a lot of reasons. And they are the subject of the second part of this essay, which will be posted mid-month.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Too many blogs...not enough thoughts



It's been one of those months when things never seem to let up and I've been reading (on the train, before I go to sleep...) and working in the studio and when I sit down to write, I'm suddenly out of things to say. Somehow, what seemed effortless to do a while ago seems really complicated lately...

In December, I was asked to do an a short intro for a book of photos and sat down to do it. I have been carrying around this notebook of quotes for years and in it was a passage from 1989 article Washington Post about how photography was different from all other art because it implied being there. I thought this would be a good intro, so I write the whole essay around it and when I was done, I thought - geez, I'm a college professor now, I ought to cite this quote properly. So I went back into the Post archives and it wasn't there...at all. I had transcribed it wrong or something and carrying it around for 19 years waiting to use this thing that had suddenly lost its usefulness.

Of course this is a small thing, but it's sort of indicative of how what I had been using as fuel for work is now of questionable value and I'm starting to get antsy about it. In the studio, I've always had a sense of how anything could be a painting, but how it got made is what will decide if it's any good or not.


Maybe that's what these sign projects are getting at. The one above is called Inarticulate Object and it's one of a few I've been working on without really knowing or caring where the idea goes. It might be as useless is as the Post quote. With writing, I always know or care where it's going. But I think that's getting in the way right now. So I'll be writing a little more, though I can't promise it will be worth reading. if you're interested, you can follow it here, or or in an even more cruddy state on my own website, which will be back up in the next week.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Research

I wanted to put out a quick shout for a piece in today's New York Times, Olivia Judson's Guest Column Research for America.

Though I'm no longer specifically teaching research methods to artists, I'm more and more interested in how we might be able to have an impact by participating in research conducted in health and science. This article imagines a re-invented research initiative that could ignite a new generation of discovery...rather than merely renewing the funding gravy train that stalled in the last few years. I doubt it will happen, but it's good to dream...

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Saturday, January 24, 2009

1000 Words

Near the end of graduate school, I started a project I've been working on very slowly over the years, I asked 50 friends to contribute 20 favorite words that would constitute the literary spine for a picture. I've finally begin getting images out of this mass of data, so I will post them here from time to time, but I thought it would be good to post the original list as a preface.

a, Abba, abecedarium, academic, accent, actants, address, adhere, adjective, adoring, adverb, adz, aerial, afloat, Africa, agents, agitator, alchemy, alligator, align, alizarin crimson, alkalization, Amen, amoebae, amphitheater, and, anima/animus, animation, annihilate, ant, anthrax, anticipation, antique, any, anyway, apocalyptic, appointments, aqua, architect, arson, art, as, asked, Assata, associate, astronomy, Astroturf, at, avant garde, awkward, ayer, back hoe, ballet, banal, barrel chested, basis, bastardized, bat, bayou, beauty, bed, bed sheets, beefy tee, behavior, believe, bella, Bellini, betray, bicycles, binder, bird, black, blissful, blond, blood pudding, bloom, blossom, blue, boil, boll-weevil, bologna, bolt, bonkers, books, boss, bottle, bounty, bow, Braille, brand, bratwurst, Brazil, breath, breathe, bridge, Brock, broke, bronze, Bronzino, Brooklyn, Brown, brushing, buck, buckle, bunny, butterfly, button, buttons, by, caduceus, cake, calculating, calibrate, California, callous, calming, camera, can't, cancellation, cappuccino, car, cardamom, cardigan, caricature, carpet, carriage, cartography, casket, cat, cataclysmic, catchword, catharsis, cavort, celebrate, celebration, celibate, cellar, centipede, cerulean, chain, chairs, charismatic, chartreuse, chiaroscuro, Chicago, Chile, chives, chocolate, chocolates, chrysanthemum, chum, chunk, church, ciao, circumlocution, circumstance, civility, clamp, classified, clause, clean, closure, cloud, clunker, cob, coda, coddle, coffee, collective, columbine, combination, comer, comida, commandment, commercial, comrade, comunitas, conjunction, connect, connected, consumed, context, conundrum, conversion, cooperation, copacetic, copper, corn, corny, corollary, corpse, corsage, cotton, count, counting, courage, cradle, crash, crazy, create, creative, creature, creepy, crime, critic, critical, crosshair, crossover, crud, crusty, crystal, crystallize, Cuba, cunning, curve, cut, dagger, damar, dark, daydream, Dear, death, deck, deferential, denouement, deploy, desirous, devilry, dextrose, dialectic, diet, dignity, dinner, dip, dirt, disappointment, disarticulate, disco, distance, disturb, do, dog, dogma, dominion, door, dormant, double mint, Douglas, down, dream, dream catcher, dreams, dregs, driving, dry-clean, dumpster, dunes, duty, dynamite, dynasty, dyslexia, dystopia, e-mail, eagle, ear, earth, earth, eep, eggs, egregious, elbow, electric, elegiac, elf, embarrasses, encompassing, end, endure, energize, energy, engender, entrance, entreat, entropy, eponymous, equilibrium, erp, esteem, Etruscan, Eucharist, every, excavator, exercise, exigent, exit, experiment, explorer, extension, extension, face, fad, fade, failure, fair-weather, Fairchild, faith, faithful, fall, false, family, fancy, fandango, farewell, fedora, feelers, feet, feet, fell, fellow, fesnoo, fester, festoon, fez, fibrillate, field, fill, finial, fish, Fish's Eddy, flaneur, flannel, flare, flattened, flea, flooey, floralist, flower, fluid, flush, fly, focus, foil, footnote, for, force, fork, forlorn, forsake, fortunate, forty-two, foul, fountain, fourteen, fragile, frame, free, fresco, fresh, Friend John, frizzy, from, frontal, frou-frou, fruit, full, fun, funny, fuss, futon, gabble, Gabrielle, game, gamut, garbage, garden, garrulous, gelato, gender, general, generous, geometer, geometrical, geometry, Gerard, gerund, gewgaw, giggle, giraffe, glance, glass, glassware, global, gnome, go, gob, God, gold, goober, good-bye, goose flesh, gorgeous, grandmother, goofy, grass, gray, green, grieve, grunt, gush, gym, ground, haiku, Halifax, hamper, hand, hangnail, happenstance, happy, hard, harmony, hash, haste, he, healing, hear, heart, heat, hellcat, here, heroic, herring, hero, high, hiking, hinge, heterotopia, hmmm, hold, home, hip, hoopty, hope, home, hotels, howitzer, Hoyne, hose, hunger, hydration, human being, I, ice, ideology, idiom, illuminate, immorality, impending, impish, impromptu, impossibility, in, incandescent, incubus, indeed, India, incense, infinitive, infinity, inflammability, inebriate, information, information, infrastructure, inflect, inside, insistent, insouciant, inoculate, intellectual, intense, intention, instant, interiority, interview, inundate, interdisciplinary, investigation, inversion, is, isosceles, it, iterative, Japanese, jet, joy, juice, just, kine, kitty, knock, knowledge, la Coeur, lackluster, lake, laser, last, lazy, lamp, lemonade, letting, lexicographic, leisure, light, lighthouse, lightly, life, lily, limitation, limned, like, lion, list, listen, linen, lofty, lollygag, long, loose, loosen, lots, love, low, love, Lucerne, ludicrous, machine, magazine, magenta, magic, Mama, mandate, manner, marble, marbles, manna, marsupial, masticate, materiality, Maria, mayonnaise, meaning, meddlesome, meeting, memoranda, memory, Memphis, merkin, Michigan, mimesis, mimetic, mersnoo, mire, mirror, misanthrope, mimic, moat, mode, moist, missing, moment, Mommy, money, monkey, moon, moon, moralist, moon, morning, mosquito, moth, moth, mourning, mouse, movement, mundane, murmur, music, music, murmur, my, musk, narcissus, navigate, nebulous, needle, nasty, Nero, nerve, new, neighborhood, next, nice, nicety, niggardly, nip, night, nine, ninety, night, no, nocturnal, nomad, non sequitur, nonsense, nodule, nonsense, north, noun, now, nozzle, obfuscate, obsolete, obstreperous, ocean, oeuvre, of, okay, oil, on, on-line, one, onomatopoeia, oof, open, one, optimistic, options, opium, orange, orphic, Otis, orifice, overslept, overwhelmed, oxymoron, overcome, painter, palfrey, papa, padded, paradigm, parents, paper, past, pastiche, path, participle, pedestrian, pelt, penultimate, paucity, perfunctory, phantom, pheasant, people, phoneme, piddle-paddle, pillows, philology, pine cones, pink, placement, plane, planning, play, placenta, plenty, Plus Ultra, polymath, pleasant, polymorphous set, Polynesia, porqué, posing, posthumous, postulate, practical, possibility, previous, princess, prism, present, problem, prosaic, psychedelic, psychic, public, puddle, puissant, quack, query, question, question mark, quid, quake, quip, quirt, quoin, quiet, rabbit, rabbit, quotidian, rain, rainy, raspberry, radiant, re-entry, reader, red, ratio, red-soldier, relation, relinquish, red, Renaissance, renovation, repetitive, reliquary, reverie, rhinoplasty, rhomb line, restless, ride, rifle, ring, river, rhyme, road, roar, rock, rocket, Roma, roots, rose, round, rooftop, run, runaway, sable, route, sadness, saint, salad, sad, salty, Samson, sandwich, saline, Saskatchewan, sate, Satiricon, sandwich, sausage, say, schism, sauce, science, scooter, scribble, school, sea, seal, season, scrofula, sedition, seek, seepy, seasonal, selfish, senescence, secret, seer, seventeen, sew, Sesquipedalian, sex, sexo, sfumato, shine, shiroi, shell, shoals, shod, shoe, shovel, sidelong, sight, shopping, silence, silly, simpatico, silence, sip, Situationist, skirt, since, sky, sleepy, sloth, slow, smarty-pants, slippery, snake, sneep, snide, smelly, snirk, snoop, snow, sniff, so, soaring, sock, sole, somersault, songs, soothe, solidarity, soul, sound, sound, sorrow, space, space, spank, soup, spectacular, sphinx, spider, spare, spirit, splendid, spring loaded, spinach, squib, squire, squirrel, springtime, stanza, stellar, stercoraceous, stand, stop, storm, strabismus, stone, strap, “strategery,” stream, strain, strength, strenuous, stress, streets, struggle, struggle, studio, struggle, stupendous, suffice, suit, stuff, sun, sun, sunshine, summons, surrogate, survey, sustainability, super, Swedish, sweep, svelte, sweetness, swim, swimming, sweet, sycamore, sycophant, syllable, swing, syringe, tack, tactile, sympathizer, take, tampon, tawdry, tailback, team, tea time, tell, teal, tender, tent, tenure, temporary, tested, Thanksgiving, that, the, thermos, think, this, thistle, third, threat, 3-D, threshold, threshold, thought, thumb, thumbprint, thump, tickle, tied-up, tiger, ticking, time, to, tile, toastale, tomato, tonal, tongue, to-do, tonic, too, topiary, tonic, topography, torment, torque, topobiology, tourist, Toussaint, townie, tour, traffic lights, trail, train, traffic, transcendence, transgress, transient, trajectory, travel, tree, tremor, tree, triumph, trope, trouser, trench, trustafarian, truth, tulip, true, twitch, two, 2-D, 2001, type, U-haul, unctuous, underwear, uh, unique, up, UNICEF, utensil, uterus, utopia, urban, vacillate, vase, vassal, uxoriousness, verge, verism, vernacular, Velcro, versus, vertigo, vestigial, verse, vintage, virtual, visionary, Vienna, visual, vowel, vista, walk, walking, walkman, waffle, waltz, warm, warning, Walter, warthog, was, wash, warrant, waste, water, watershed, wave, web, weekly, weep, waver, weird, well, well-mannered, weevil, whelp, which, whine, what, whisper, whisper, white, whippersnapper, white, why, wild, will, willow, wind, winsome, winter, wing, wonder, wood, wool, work, yashmak, yearlong, yellow, write, yes, yesterday, yellow ochre, you, you're, your, zebra, zephyr, zipper, zooks, Zorro.