What is Nothing Something Sandwich?

A symposium dedicated to the cultivation of spontaneous occurrences and multifarious forms of communication, cooperation and presence.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Sunday, February 21, 2010

here i am, back on earth, now what?

thank you, friends, for injecting my life with a serious dose of much needed something.... or nothing-something? i'm still downloading.
i think of each one of you daily with love! and cannot wait for our next voyage.

i leave you in the care of:

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


The Sun woke me this morning loud
and clear, saying "Hey! I've been
trying to wake you up for fifteen
minutes. Don't be so rude, you are
only the second poet I've ever chosen
to speak to personally
so why
aren't you more attentive? If I could
burn you through the window I would
to wake you up. I can't hang around
here all day."
"Sorry, Sun, I stayed
up late last night talking to Hal."

"When I woke up Mayakovsky he was
a lot more prompt" the Sun said
petulantly. "Most people are up
already waiting to see if I'm going
to put in an appearance."
I tried
to apologize "I missed you yesterday."
"That's better" he said. "I didn't
know you'd come out." "You may be
wondering why I've come so close?"
"Yes" I said beginning to feel hot
wondering if maybe he wasn't burning me
"Frankly I wanted to tell you
I like your poetry. I see a lot
on my rounds and you're okay. You may
not be the greatest thing on earth, but
you're different. Now, I've heard some
say you're crazy, they being excessively
calm themselves to my mind, and other
crazy poets think that you're a boring
reactionary. Not me.
Just keep on
like I do and pay no attention. You'll
find that people always will complain
about the atmosphere, either too hot
or too cold too bright or too dark, days
too short or too long.

If you don't appear
at all one day they think you're lazy
or dead. Just keep right on, I like it.

And don't worry about your lineage
poetic or natural. The Sun shines on
the jungle, you know, on the tundra
the sea, the ghetto. Wherever you were
I knew it and saw you moving. I was waiting
for you to get to work.
And now that you
are making your own days, so to speak,
even if no one reads you but me
you won't be depressed. Not
everyone can look up, even at me. It
hurts their eyes."

"Oh Sun, I"m so grateful to you!"

"Thanks and remember I'm watching. It's
easier for me to speak to you out
here. I don't have to slide down
between buildings to get your ear.
I know you love Manhattan, but
you ought to look up more often.
always embrace things, people earth
sky stars, as I do, freely and with
the appropriate sense of space. That
is your inclination, known in the heavens
and you should follow it to hell if
necessary, which I doubt.
Maybe we'll
speak again in Africa, of which I too
am specially fond. Go back to sleep now
Frank, and I may leave a tiny poem
in that brain of yours as my farewell."

"Sun, don't go!" I was awake
at last. "No, go I must, they're calling
"Who are they?"
Rising he said "Some
day you'll know. They're calling to you
too." Darkly he rose, and then I slept.

-Frank O'Hara

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Something Something Sandwich

We are There.

Our life is in boxes and we have spent the past couple of days between homes. Telepathic messages were sent amidst housepaintingcleaningpackinglugging.

Yesterday , for lunch I had a Ham and Tomato on Ciabatta. Denise had a Reuben on Rye.

Of Glee and Isolation

On Saturday, we traveled to Fort Pulaski in two cars and explored the (relatively) natural environment, for the most part, on our own or just in sight or out-of-sight of one another. Deer, raccoon, and a profusion of birds kept us company. Sandra whistled a duet with a bird; Hilary lay outstretched on the ground, face skyward; Joe confronted nature; Kyle ran; Chriss walked the oyster-laden shore; John stayed mostly within the wooded shade. We continued on to Thunderbolt as the subsequent location, and walked new routes there until evening chill grew and drew us into Tubby's for spuds, Bella's, and lifted silence. Back at the 'bun,' chocolate bread (from Back in the Day) preceded a meal gradually made throughout the evening, of tube spaghetti and grilled vegetables. Questions such as, "What brings you joy?" led the conversation, and John typed a poem while Louie solicited supper through the power of his gaze. Dance music continued through the early morning, until sleepers were waken in darkness to prepare for the journey to the sunrise.


As part of the structure of NSS, we were invited to teach something to our fellow participants, which we did, more or less.

  • Chriss demonstrated how to make tea lights from the shell of a clementine and olive oil, and one burned long into the night.
  • Joe taught (mostly Chriss and Sandra) how to juggle Clementines (until they got squishy).
  • Hilary gave us a lesson in making porcelain beads, and a wonderful varied collection was produced, in the middle of the night.
  • Sandra sampled everyone's handwriting and signature and taught a few of the key principles of graphology (at Tubby's).
  • John modeled the best way to pick up and to hold Louie.
Also, Emily's mailed gift warm socks (darned together) arrived.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Yoko Ono

Everyone is in place -- Emily and Kyle arrived yesterday in the morning and Chriss and Joe got here at night. Discussions continued late into the night, and it was determined that the original format of an eight hour silent walk was still appealing.

This morning, amidst steady rain and a forecast of snow, we fortified ourselves on Hilary's amazing tofu breakfast along with mango, Asian pear, and pineapple in preparation to begin.

Our meanderings took us to our house for additional outerwear, and then we headed generally south and westward toward Daffin Park. Others in the group will probably write observations of the variousness of events (umbrella formations, playground excursions, piggyback, woven candy wrappers, the Al Salaam deli), so I'll move on to the time following our return to Hilary's, where we began a collaborative sumi ink and watercolor drawing. At its midpoint, Emily and Kyle called the rest of the group to the porch --- to see the thick flakes of snow falling! In 17 years in Savannah, I have not seen this! This is the NSS snow.

I stayed on the porch awhile, enjoying watching the flakes fall, and melt. When I went in, Hilary was the only one remaining on the porch. As I came in, a small, bright yellow book caught my eye. I picked it up, and opened to a page:


Snow Piece

Take a tape of the sound of the snow
This should be done in the evening.
Do not listen to the tape.
Cut it and use it as strings to tie
gifts with.
Make a gift wrapper, if you wish, using
the same process with a phonosheet.

1963 autumn"

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

NSS weather report

Weather report made by Banana Peppers for NSS from weather.msn.com:

Feb 11Mostly SunnyMostly Sunny
Feb 12RainRain
Feb 13Partly CloudyPartly Cloudy
Feb 14Partly CloudyPartly Cloudy
Feb 15Mostly CloudyMostly Cloudy
Hi: 51°
Lo: 32°
Hi: 51°
Lo: 32°
Hi: 49°
Lo: 35°
Hi: 53°
Lo: 38°
Hi: 52°
Lo: 37°

Saturday, February 6, 2010

We Require Stories

Not able to find his favorite swimming hole Heraclitus
eats the lunch he's packed in the parking lot and reasons
"there must be a better way to proceed than this."
Anaxogoras slurs into his ear: "Heracli, listen,
don't you see
everything is made of everything, but the object it is has most of that,"
and Heraclitus thinks
"avert from my tongue the madness of such men";
he thinks
"if i could get a few more dollars
I could get those forty acres
and grow my olives in peace."

from Presocratic Blues by Joel Bettridge

Friday, February 5, 2010

Dear Mr. Mendez,

Thank you for the auspicious donation to the Nothing Something Sandwich Archive.

In honor of your absence we will read between the lines.

Best Wishes,

En Route

Hello, Everyone -- I put packages for you in the mail today. Joe, John, and Raul, wonderful to receive yours! Sandra

Thursday, February 4, 2010

The poem is from Eulogy to the World, by Gu Cheng
The music is a Gondellied in A Major by Mendelssohn

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

native seed....



Monday, February 1, 2010

We have lost two of our ingredients.  Denise &  Raul will not be able to attend the inaugural Sandwich, but will continue to participate in the blog and telepathically.