Machines for the Creation of Dreams, David Kjellin
nOIR:Z, 2021
On a metaphorical level, every image in Machines is a balancing act of becoming and decay. Erasures block out most of the readable text, letters in large font are recognizable but fragmented, typographic arrows point to the empty spaces of the page, etc. As the author notes in an introductory note to the text, “this is a visual poetry combining erasure, asemic, concrete, collage, all blending and blurring borders.” As such, the poems seem to occupy that space in between sleep and wakefulness, that rich mental state where the distinctions between the conscious and subconscious mind fall away, where thoughts take on the vividness of dreams, and dreams are able to be influenced by the will.
By creating such visual spaces, Kjellin invites the viewer to participate along with his pieces in a kind of daydreaming state of discovery. Everything is suggestion here, and the viewer feels the push and pull of these poems like inklings bubbling up from the subconscious, the mind generating its own stories and associations, creating flit instances of meaning that seem to fade into forgetfulness as quickly as they emerge. In short, these poems ask and guide simultaneously, they request openness of the viewer, and illuminate an openness that goes beyond the experience of conscious thought. In short, it is a beautiful little book.
