Cliff Crego—composite blog, twitter & new images

Everything? The circle we draw in language & thought
around that which we cannot draw a circle around… . . . .

PHOTO: AMERICAN PIKA (Ochotona princeps) at 2400 m., small alpine member of the Rabbit family, year-round inhabitant of boulder fields above treeline bordering small meadows. True mountain farmers of the high-country, putting up enough “hay” to last six months of snow-bound winter, the Pika is also a potential victim of a hotter, drier climate. Much like the Whitebark Pines which share the same habitat, they are highly adapted to snow and cold, and cannot tolerate temperatures above 30 c.


When a  is given
the attributes of life;
Or worse—when a living being
is given the attributes of a machine.

When a  or MUSICIAN reads from
a script, or score, don’t trust them.
Why? Only when the eyes are free,
does the spirit fly.

SEE performance SCORE & INTRO at
performance model mp3

Performance models are with the StarCycle PROJECT
important. Why? This is because they explore a wide
repertoire of new species of musical movement. So
computers are needed, in a way, to make them manifest,
just as computers are needed to make the new geometry of
FRACTALS visible. So, paradoxically, the machine reveals
a new dimension that potentially helps us transcend the
otherwise dehumanized rhythmical landscape of what much
of Classical Music has become.

Read and translated by CLIFF CREGO,
in English & Dutch …


The morning blackbird gargles
cupfuls of bitter wine,
dream, that grows grainy with pain
in the throats of birds
because the day must be;
because the great whole
darkness no longer can remain silent.


De morgenmerel gorgelt
bekers bittere wijn
droom, die tot pijn verkorrelt
in vogelkelen
omdat het dag moet zijn;
omdat het grote hele
donker niet langer dicht kan zijn.

Gerrit Achterberg uit: Sintels (1944)

(tr. from the Dutch by Cliff Crego)

[drawing of Achterberg © Siegfried Woldhek 1988]


's like a bell, all words
ringing as one. One “tap” & we hear
'inclinate' doesn't fit the sound
of the whole.

DOWNLOAD “Poetry As Natural History,” which includes both the Dutch & English versions of the JAN HANLO poem

SEE TEXT as webpage at

THE IMAGE ABOVE was made after the snowy winter
of 2011, snow which lingered above 2000 m. well into July.
I spend a lot of time in domes, or geodesic tents. I can
remember getting my very first little blue one years ago.
During storms, I’ve had plenty of time to admire the elegant
curves of their geometry, and their amazing flexibility and
strength. I’ve come to enjoy this kind of close-to-the-ground
life style, without beds, and, tables, and chairs. So much so,
in fact, that as I venture back to the lowlands, I find it hard
to believe the box-like square structures that have come to stand
for the economy of comfort and style in industrial Western
culture. Indeed, it seems like we all now live in beige boxes,
go to work and sit all day in front of beige boxes, and most
likely will be buried in one, too. Very odd.

Below is a long-line sonnet, a kind of love song, or song
of praise, to the humble geodesic … DOME … It is, of course,
dedicated to the deeply resonant legacy of the great
R. Buckminster Fuller.


A rare document, this is a poem that Nikola Tesla wrote in the late 1920s for his German friend, George Sylvester Viereck. Viereck was a well-known poet living in NYC, and sometimes mystic. The piece is part critique, part joke, but mostly tongue-in-cheek in tone, energized with more than a little bit of whiskey. All the same, it’s revealing I think. Especially in its prescient sense of the more destructive implications of Einstein’s work. And that by one of the greatest scientists of all time, who gave us so many inventions we use every day, and insights like, “If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.”

The background recording is of RAVENS flying over a camp at 1450 m., announcing the clearing of a storm, with light rain still falling on top of snow, the Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon.

HERE’S the text of the poem:

While listening on my cosmic phone
I caught words from the Olympus blown.
A newcomer was shown around;
That much I could guess, aided by sound.

“There’s Archimedes with his lever
Still busy on problems as ever.
Says: matter and force are transmutable
And wrong the laws you thought immutable.”

“Below, on Earth, they work at full blast
And news are coming in thick and fast.
The latest tells of a cosmic gun.
To be pelted is very poor fun.

We are wary with so much at stake,
Those beggars are a pest—no mistake.”
“Too bad, Sir Isaac, they dimmed your renown
And turned your great science upside down.

Now a long haired crank, Einstein by name,
Puts on your high teaching all the blame.
Says: matter and force are transmutable
And wrong the laws you thought immutable.”

“I am much too ignorant, my son,
For grasping schemes so finely spun.
My followers are of stronger mind
And I am content to stay behind,

Perhaps I failed, but I did my best,
These masters of mine may do the rest.
Come, Kelvin, I have finished my cup.
When is your friend Tesla coming up.”

“Oh, quoth Kelvin, he is always late,
It would be useless to remonstrate.”
Then silence—shuffle of soft slippered feet—
I knock and—the bedlam of the street.

OCTET PROJECT: arr. Stravinsky’s Piano-Rag-Music iPad score Model mp3 the OCTET PROJECT at:

OCTET PROJECT: arr. Stravinsky’s Piano-Rag-Music

iPad score
Model mp3