Thursday, 31 July 2014


You may be wondering about the inkblots.

"Aren't they for madmen? What do they have to do with books?"

Ink, my darlings, is the blood that keeps my bookish heart squeezing.

I have had a fascination with inkblots and specifically, the Rorschach test for my whole adult life.

Perspective is very important. It is said that, "No two people ever read the same book."

I agree.

When we are processing a piece of art, we unfold ourselves.

The Rorschach test, while now academically discredited, was previously used by doctors to assess a patient's inner state of mind.

The test has now become part of popular culture.

The background image for this blog is actually a painting created by none other than pop culture icon Andy Warhol in 1984. He had intended to write analytically about the inkblot painting series that he created, though he never found the time or inclination to do so.

When most people look at inkblots, they are reminded of nature; flowers, insects, animals and organs are common answers given by those who take the Rorschach Test.

When I look at inkblots, I see poems.

I see subjective, cryptic stains upon paper - art to some, rubbish to others, essential to many. 

By Leaves will have a weekly post featuring an inkblot, the poem it conjures in my mind, and a little background about the poet who authored it. You will find them on their own dedicated page. 

Unlike Andy Warhol, I have time and inclination in spades. 

'The coroner will find ink in my veins and blood on my typewriter keys.'

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