The periphery of the stars…shoot…the poem is born…out of angst or longing or invention. There is nothing new under the sun they say, so how do we continue to create? Do we recycle ornaments from the past and mould them into present gems? Certainly we do this. Originality was never the most important thing to writers in the past. Building on what has been said, as a kind of palimpsest, is a notable endeavour. We all live in a community of words where it is not so much a matter of ‘recycling’ than ‘interfacing’. I hate to use a techno-word, especially after reading about The Singularity machine under construction in the Montreal Gazette. But I guess I’m using this word because I like the image of faces ‘facing’ one another, intering/entering the folds and creases of the other. So what makes a work of art stand out? It is the pulse that strikes one as a cutting, living substance, that makes us stop and shudder. No matter how many times we are arrested by similar pulses, they will always stand as somehow ‘new’ to us because of their starkness, their moment of stunning truth and suggestiveness. Don’t be afraid to write because ‘it has been said before’ because your words may fall into an order that is sublime and stick to the base metal of others’ minds. We must celebrate the communal and find room for all excellent voices, past, present and future.