1.
The Infraworld — photographs by George Appletree
From the Community
These images came from
’s recent post aptly named ‘The infraworld’ (👇🏽). I don’t really know all that much about film photography, and much less so about the qualities of infrared light. But what I do know is that there’s a whole spectrum of light (including infrared) that we don’t see.We don’t see the fullness of our world, and these photographs are a beautiful reminder to me of that. That first landscape image looks like it could have been taken on a newly discovered planet… but it’s our very own Earth.
The bamboo takes on a different stature and beauty that is at once familiar and unimagined. Through this unusual sepia lens, the flower blooming from the forest floor somehow feels more like part of the ground and grass that surrounds it; it’s no longer the ‘queen’ of this garden, but rather a very tall sister to all the other foliage.
I recently discovered George through Substack’s latest feature, Notes. He’s very generous in sharing his own work, as well as other photography from archives that I really enjoy. Recently he shared a whole series of self-portraits in black and white, and I particularly enjoyed this one 👇🏽:
2.
How to See — a poem by me, inspired by Jason McBride
From the Community
Almost a year ago, I started following
and Jason put out an invitation to experiment with how to go about writing a poem (👇🏽). Starting from some instructions on to make a smoked tofu sandwich, I ended with a poem on seeing.George’s infrared photography (👆🏽) reminded me of it, so please enjoy :).
How to see. You see, to see your world As if you were you and Your world was your world, You need a certain pair of glasses. The rose-tinted one for Rose. The violet ones for Violet. The you coloured ones for you. It is the best pair you could find When you were little. I invite you now to Take off the glasses. Don’t just peer above them, Take off the glasses. You will find that you need your Full vision to see the world That isn’t just your world. Don’t worry if it’s blurry right now. One at a time look: At your mother, At your father, At your partner. Do you see? She is not ‘Ma’; She is a whole human being And has been before you were Even born. He is not ‘Daddy’; He is a whole human being And he loved you even when He didn’t know how to. Even when he didn’t have to. She is not ‘darling’, please. She is a whole human being And her love reaches beyond The two of you. You see, to see the world You must see the one Who is looking. We are blind. I’m sorry, But you SEE? You can put your glasses Back on now. You can close your eyes and Blink a few times. Prepare to do this again, because Now and again you will want To see. - Raphy Mendoza
3.
On Seeing — a quote from Kazuo Ohno
From the Library
"You don’t have to look at the setting sun with your everyday matter-of-fact way of seeing the world. There’s no need to. What really matters is whether your inner sun is sinking or not. You’ve no need to identify yourself with that sun out there on the horizon. Keep your eyes open. Even though the sky is darkening, your inner sun is still ablaze. Yes, keep your eyes wide open. We're quivering at that unfolding beauty."
— Kazuo Ohno
🥪 SMOKED TOFU SANDWICH 🥪
Here are the sandwich instructions that eventually made it into the poem.
1. You need a certain kind of bread for this sandwich: Vogel’s Soya and Linseed loaf. It is the best-sliced bread since sliced bread.
2. Fry up the smoked tofu in untoasted sesame oil - slice it up about 3mm thick, using up the whole block. Yes, I know it’s £3.99 for that tiny block and yes we need it all for these sandwiches. Cook both sides until nicely golden brown.
3. While that’s happening, mix in a bowl some white tahini, Coleman’s mustard, cold water, and a teeny dash of maple syrup. Sprinkle salt. Spread this on each of the pieces do Vogel’s bread, and put aside
4. You can remove the tofu from the heat and set them aside to cool.
5. Now. Chop half a red onion into very thin slices. As thin as you can get it without slicing off your own fingers. Lay these on of the bread slices.
6. Next, lay some salad leaves. Keep the leaves large, so they form a barrier between the bread and the next ingredient: sauerkraut.
7. It’s the cabbage thing in the fridge, with bits of wild garlic in it from the garden. It stinks, I’m sorry, but it’s delicious.
8. After the sauerkraut you can place the tofu on top, and then the rest of the alfalfa that needs using up.
9. Close the sandwich, and slice it into 2 on a diagonal.
10. Do it again, because now someone else will want a sandwich too.
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First, your poem is amazing! I love the idea of looking at the world as it really is, without our filters (glasses). Thanks for sharing it and thanks for the shoutout! Second, I loved George’s infrared post and am so glad you featured him. His newsletter is quite good. Thanks for another thoughtful and perfectly curated issue!