SAMPLER + RE-SAMPLER First Edition of 200 $12 / £ 8.90 sampler + re-sampler is a co-dive into ecstatic ekphrasis, less interested in description or captioning, instead edging toward collaged text written in celebration of image, memory, and deep friendship. it is the [ongoing] result of a collaboration that began [unknowingly] with the re-publication of maryhope|whitehead|lee’s book Nuclear Waste [F*%K IF I KNOW//BOOKS, 2019] as a zine in the early months of 2021. given the dimensions we used for the re-formatted zine version, we needed to trim a slim bit of blank space at the bottom of the folded pages. the result: a 5.5”x1.5” booklet that we began to think of as the “waste” of Nuclear Waste. copies of Nuclear Waste are available here. later, maryhope filled one of these [non-]waste booklets with collages using scraps found on the counter in her apartment. she came to call this her collage sampler. ryan, wanting to see the collages in motion, then scanned the 26 spreads [can you say alphabet?!] and created a gif. hoping to further unsteady the edges of the individual pages/images, he created two more gifs with different frame rates. these he stacked, letting the kaleidoscopic flux serve as an optic bath. over the next several months, he began writing slim vertical poems while letting his vision blur into the gifs, his mind on maryhope. these texts were an experiment in perpendicular conversation, letting the stacked and shifting images of maryhope’s sampler inform the generation of ryan’s series of re-samplers. in the continued sprawl of the pandemic, these cross-media translations and transcreations were another small way to “be” together. at the heart of sampler + re-sampler is an interest in proximity and association. the ways collage can hold [and create!] space for disparate elements to rub up against each other. something about friction, tectonics, dialog. how this act of accretion is both a curation and an artifact of our curiosity. the question, then: when this physical, hand-cut, gathering is digitized and set whirring, what new edges emerge? to write within and toward that blur is to inhabit a space of bent mirrorings, caught between meaning and memory. to see an ecstasy in motion and then to reflect it, refracting the warmth of recognition. i see you and know that i, too, am seen. in the flux of this ongoing iteration, sampler + re-sampler aims to document a prismatic interaction between two friends and their chosen media. a small glimmer in the midst of our turbulence. individual snippets from sampler + re-sampler have previously found digital homes at Arteidolia, Rivulet, Metatron, ctrl+v, Tyger Quarterly, and death of workers whilst building skyscrapers. deep gratitude to the generous editors who keep each of these publications alive. to experience an interactive digital version of the project with audio recordings, visit the SAMPLER + RE-SAMPLER webpage. larger screens (i.e. laptops/desktops) recommended. enjoy the swirl! maryhope|whitehead|lee is an unexpected denizen of the northern sonoran desert. whether writing a poem, creating a collage, designing a zine, assembling a handmade book, stitching a pañuelo, or beading a canvas, it is her desire to create arresting and compelling images, both aesthetically and emotionally. a descendant of the ship, like Christina Sharpe, she resides in the weather of the wake. look for her work on Instagram @mhwlee_collage. Ryan Greene writes, translates, makes, and caretakes books in "Phoenix, Arizona," the city where he grew up. His most recent translations include projects with Carolina Dávila, Elena Salamanca, Claudina Domingo, Giancarlo Huapaya, and Yaxkin Melchy. He's learning.
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