Tip of the Knife: Tip of the Knife, Issue 30

This issue is devoted to handmade art work.

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CONTRIBUTORS

Roger Smith
daniel de culla

David Felix
Jim Leftwich and John M. Bennett

Maria Damon

Marilyn R. Rosenberg

Crag Hill

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- DRAW BLOOD OR GO HOME -

Roger Smith

daniel de culla

Acaros

Act+¡nula

Adan

Baudelaire

Gulliver

David Felix

Cast

Stitch

Votive

Jim Leftwich and John M. Bennett

Maria Damon

Don't Forget to W(e)ave 1

Don't Forget to W(e)ave 2

Don't Forget to W(e)ave 3

Marilyn R. Rosenberg

RETURN 29,952-953

RETURN 29,954-956

RETURN 29,957-962

RETURN 29,963-965

RETURN 29,998-999

Crag Hill

We now present some hand drawn, hand lettered work created by visual/verbal poet Crag Hill with whom I have a special bond of friendship stretching back to 1980. Together we chewed up that entire decade, turning mass into energy and charging face forward into the light. We worked together underneath Mission Street with giant sized cameras and copy boards, watching the life of San Francisco walking over our heads. We performed in two bands at the same time playing at uncounted bars, clubs and galleries. We amused ourselves in the streets and the alleys. We would steal the messengers’ bikes and ride through the Tenderloin, a ghetto that swallows souls.

He saved our lives once; we had skipped work and were on the way to my apartment that sat on top of Twin Peaks. We were speeding, babbling like Kerouac and Cassidy, paying no attention to the road until I heard Crag scream and I saw my death. That scream gave me the few seconds I needed to skate through the traffic like a flat rock on the surface of a lake. So we were able to continue what from that moment on, I called our Charmed Lives. And we never wasted another moment, filling up Time, using Time, painting Time.

Crag Hill’s visual poetry was the first I saw- it cracked my head open- I’m still convinced I saw God at that moment. And speaking of God, I think we both saw Him one afternoon when we ingested mushrooms on his roof. We could see across San Francisco Bay to Atlantis with its fanciful climbing architecture and white mists, with people of heightened consciousness and giant beautiful brilliant gems that penetrate the fog with colored beams, cerulean blue like the ocean, iridescent gold mornings, prism violet sunsets.

Anyway, my homie, my friend, my genius madman, keep on inspiring your students; I hope they know how lucky they are.

Bill