REVIEW OF THOMAS COOK’S REVIEW OF MY AMERICAN FLOWERS

 
 

Or suddenly I understand that I am real, or that the flowers are, that the perceived tunnel of atonality is perhaps a runnel for centrality—my core, or the core which the American Flowers are from or for—reviewed and focused on by Thomas Cook, and it is clear that he has read the book thoroughly and in his review chooses to eschew defining me or my writing as instead he further questions, through image and sound, what I or my words might be, and the first two minutes seem to present these queries from the vantage of a dock (a search—let’s be on the shore then go in), then the waves and scan become what is described as the Dorholt Level and the level is in the water, or within the petals, as Cook begins to read directly from the flowers at a speed he deems them to buoy up from, and if I can say anything it is that I appreciate these reviewer- reading speeds, as they reflect both the breath and the passage—to move through, under, over, to journey, to subject to pace—of the flowers, and though I don’t pretend to have direct intent, I believe intent should come from a reader’s appropriation of and confrontation with content, and as such I think Cook has done much in the way of mining and minding this veer, even if he’s managed to rake through my internet faces to the point where I do not know who the person(s) in the video are/is, other than they/we/me represent—specimen, to typify, alleged—variations of the organ which holds my face, which is also the mask of all the words that come from inside the face, and so I am faced with saying that, yes, I walk away from watching the video better understanding what the work I’ve created is, and even in the spinning champagne glasses and tag-marked bovine and swirling flame dancers and matrices of data and season-changing trees and golden fields and sea nets that wrangle and filter this face/these faces/my face, isn’t that what any of anything should be about—that we are confronted by more than we confront, that we are never just the face?—or is it enough that we also keep thinking and theorizing and driving for the purity, even, like in the end of the video, we’re in the closed-down dark of our language, or that this is not about a question, just that all along the flowers have been playing their growth, for you and you and me, speaking their speed without constant need of the farmer’s face looking down at them saying yeah, that one might work, look at that one, that one’s not going to make it, let’s give this one time, what if this one was next to this one, like in a bouquet, perhaps we should cut the stem off here.

Tyler Flynn Dorholt

July 10, 2017