ekphrastic

Issue #17, Perception

WHAT ARE YOU SEEING? In today’s world, this question takes on a whole new meaning, doesn’t it? What are we seeing? What is real and what is imagined? How is my subjective response relevant to the collective real and important conversations?

It’s critical, now more than ever, to validate what is real and to identify our selective responses. In this issue of Manifest (zine), you’ll find several images of artwork, each followed by an ekphrastic poem that responds to the art.

The zine is arranged in such a way that you are asked to see the REAL artwork, and then turn the page to read a SUBJECTIVE response. In doing so, hopefully, you’ll come to understand that for every YOU looking at the world one way, there is a ME seeing it completely differently.

Featuring writings by Jen Payne, and artwork reprinted with permission by Jennifer Flint, Lisa Wolkow, Susan Doolittle, Linda Edwards, LeBrie Rich, Collier and Kim Hahn, and Frank X. Tolbert 2; as well as older works by C. Allen Gilbert, Joseph Beuys, and W. E. Hill.

24-page, Full Color 4.75″ square booklet and a curated Spotify playlist. Cost: $8.00.

This issue has been printed and mailed thanks to the generous support of readers. I’m hoping to continue publishing MANIFEST (zine) through 2026, but could use your help. Please click here for more information.

You can pay through PayPal using a PayPal account or any standard credit card. If you prefer the old school approach, please send your check, made payable to Jen Payne, P.O. Box 453, Branford, CT 06405.

Heist

I drove the get-away car that day,
left it on idle in the parking space
closest to the electronic OUT door
of Porter’s Grocery there in Alpine.

It was a bright Texas day, hot,
the car angled in shade enough
for a clear-on view of the lobby,
bulletin board, handbills, and tacks.

We’d scoped out the joint before,
cased the aisles for jerky
and a bottle of wine for dinner
back in Marfa at the Thunderbird.

There was a nice patio
outside our room with blue lights
like the alien spaceships
you could see there sometimes?

Funny things in that part of Texas:
spaceships and meteors,
a roadside Prada shoe outlet,
Chinati’s take on art, and ours.

Ours was her, Viva Terlingua!
in her sunset-red cowboy hat,
hand-strung turquoise beads, and
that witty West Texas smile.

It’s a smile that says just about all
you want to say about West Texas,
about the wild Trans-Pecos
and its wide expanse of stars.

It’s a promise of whiskey at La Kiva,
or hot coffee while the sun rises
over Terlingua and Study Butte
over Big Bend and the Rio Grande.

It’s a smile that remembers solitude,
the promise of oddity and isolation,
of community, maybe, companionship —
two friends on the road laughing.

It’s the awesome sound a car makes solo
on a nighttime desert highway,
or peeling out from the Porter’s,
Viva Terlingua! rolled up in the back seat.

Viva Terlingua! was featured on a 2010 poster from the Original Terlingua Chili Championship. The artwork is by Texas-based artist Frank X. Tolbert 2. You can see more of his amazing work on his website, here. The Original Terlingua Chili Championship ( link ) was started in 1967 by his father Frank X. Tolbert Sr. and a group of local men. Special thanks to his daughter, Kathleen Ryan, for filling in these details on a recent serendipitous Saturday.

Serendipity Part 2: While searching for the artist who created the original for this poster, I emailed the folks at the Original Terlingua Chili Championship. The woman I contacted was Kathleen Ryan, who turned out to be the daughter of the one of the event’s founders, and sister of the artist. Now I just found out she is also THE WOMAN IN THE PAINTING! Unbelievable!

Poem ©2020, Jen Payne. For DeLinda, of course, road trip partner in crime. Written as part of the Guilford Poets Guild’s month-long celebration ekphrastic poetry, see here.