Ask Me about the Moon, The Vine & the Fish Reflection

Ask Me about the Moon

The land of the Hawaiian natives now belonged to the upper class who came to visit making the natives slaves in their own land. Lines like “castles in the sand” when you go out onto the beach to look out into the dark sky at the moon and see only the development in the skyline that houses tourist who come to Hawaii for luxury and its beauty which is all built from the sweat of the local’s brow.  Eventually the land’s purpose, sanctity to them fades away, its beauty and wonder stripped of what it once represented, its significance to their culture now tainted by outsiders who the land now served for their pleasure and vocational bliss. Another element introduced is the fading text and then another replacing it before its even fully out of the scene, out into a white scratch, scribbling representing the waves of the ocean that many tourists come to enjoy off the labor of the natives’ backs whose own resources then becomes a chain of slavery to their land made an early powerful impact less than a minute into the piece. Deep inhales of exhausted breathing around minute 1:30 depicting the physical stress and laborious work that picks up at certain intervals of the video when a few paragraphs of text are left on the screen to read emphasize the Hawaiian peoples struggles keeping up with their work situation to survive and make a living. Lines such as “reef of spent muscular secretion of hope”, “palaces of purchased love”, “sleeps unsettled twin” all powerfully stood out to me depicting these feelings that probably don’t get heard or shared to create a unified voice. The picking up and fading in of a new word to replace the next creates also for me the feeling of labor, continuous movement with no rest in sight, a chain reaction where everything and everyone is connected to the land, its people, tourist. One cannot be without the other. The Emmanuel Levinas text on the “ego” and escaping the “there is” I am still trying to figure out.

This digital poem also made me think and refer to a few lines from Yardley, Pa 1997 of v: “like a place in the world where things’r beautiful and you can let ‘em be.” I feel this is a big issue with the world and our “Ego”. We have to try and make places ours, or our home away from home. This happens all around the world with struggling countries and lands whose people have no other way of income but Tourism and have to basically pimp themselves out to strangers while they come in and act like they run or own the place with little regard to the land’s history, and people who inhabit as their home and have created the culture, history they come to explore.

The Vine & the Fish

The kudzu seemed to gain popularity early in American lifestyles for its diverse uses especially in farming, and its aromatic grape scent. It’s interesting to see how a plant was so popular at one point, especially during a challenging time period and then have an unpopular opinion or change about its use, appearance, and acceptance in society now having backs turned to it. This is a common theme that I think can be related to this piece as every day, week, year one race, culture, religion takes some lashing out at it or is singled out as the problem to Americas woes or the ones who created it and continue to contribute to. These are usually not based off of any factual information, just opinionated, well versed rhetoric that many just grab a political hold of to feel part of something or have a voice in society, or their communities. The small, boxed drawings, and captions to go with the piece do move fast and I have to pause them to get a good read of them and interpret what is being said. Descriptive words like “alien species” “competition for share resources” or harm, brings a defensive vibe to what is going to be said from there on. I think this goes well with what is happening in our society today here in America. Many who come here will be labeled or referred to with such terms, or phrases once they begin to make a life here in America and start creating competition for others in business, work, and education. Many will start to feel that they shouldn’t be allowed or are invading a good thing in place, no one wants to share the pie of success. The intermittent labor of breathing also was experienced in this piece of work that brings with it the feeling of exhaustion with acceptance or flux in how people are treated or seen in the U.S. as “harmful invaders” as the kudzu did once it seemed to loose its original purpose of being useful. Your good to your last move in America. Once a wave or momentum has you in the undertow or against you it is hard to get your credibility back or seen as a good.

The Vine and the Fish Presentation and Ask Me For the Moon

The Vine and the Fish :

Reaction Paper

Presentation

Ask Me For the Moon: This piece felt overwhelming to me. I am excited to see Ava’s presentation to help me understand the piece better. The lines moved and disappeared too quickly that I couldn’t really keep up that much. I understand that the work covers the tourism in Hawaii and the threat it has on native Hawaiians. I thought it was beautifully written. I also thought the notes section was the most fascinating. The statistic about the number of employees to visitors was mind blowing to me just on Waikiki! I enjoyed hearing the narrative as well it really helped to tie the whole thing together. The note section in my opinion was critical to the piece. I felt like it made the poems more powerful when learning just how much work goes into the tourism there for example, the Zamboni-like machine that smooths out the sand and the works that go out with shovels and rakes to manicure the beach for the next day. It took me a second to get into the swing of things with this piece but overall, I found it to be very moving and insightful.

STOP! LOOK! LISTEN!

Ask Me About The Moon, by John David Zuern and The Vine & the Fish by Leise Hook

Ask Me About the Moon by John David Zuern felt like stepping into someone’s digital dream sequence.  It was quiet, slow, and full of small discoveries. The navigation seemed intentionally delicate: I clicked through scattered words that appeared almost by chance, as if the story wanted to test my patience. I had to pay attention to the words as the overlapped.

Some pages seemed to open fragments of soft text against shifting backgrounds, while other clicks would lead to silence, asking me to notice what wasn’t being said (I think). At one point, I followed a glowing moon icon, only to find it brought me back to where I started, I guess this was supposed to show me that not every path lead to forward movement?!

The Vine & the Fish by Leise Hook felt more alive and awake. Navigation was more of an actually story to me, I could follow a path. As I slid and hovered over and pull through its digital pages I could see something unfolding, an actual story. The vine stretched across the screen, curling around snippets of text that told small stories. It gave the impression of a hidden system, seemingly organic, but intentional. There was a rhythm to it, like breathing or swimming.

The Vine & the Fish for me was timed perfectly.  There’s a contractor in my neighborhood causing a lot of waves (like an invasive vine) in building across the street from my house.  He’s removing a ton of trees to build an oversize McMansion on the lake we all moved into my neighborhood to be a part of.  Being a part of this story and loosing myself in the vines was both ironic and meditative as I was going through something somewhat similar in my personal life.

I loved how both these stories slowed me down.  That my current personal life is so overly busy (@12-14 hour days) and both these gave me a chance to just stop and breath and loose myself to the stories as they unfolded.  Both remind me that digital literature isn’t about technology showing off (no “MTV style’ fast moving video’s etc.); it’s about using it to create emotion, reflection, and connection in unexpected ways.

Ask me for the moon/ The Vine and the Fish

Ask me for the moon:

The one was one of the more shorter pieces we have been assigned so far. Its short but the meaning behind this piece is so massive. One thing that defintley stood out for me was that we as readers had no control over what we read. Once you click “Begin” the words just keep appearing and you sort of HAVE to read it. Nothing else on the screen is clickable so it kind of seemed as of we were trapped in this space. Don’t think I used “trapped” in a bad way. More or rather, the reader has to come to terms with the major point of this peace. “The land is now called real estate, rather than our mother”, caught my eye because it sounds a bit lyrical. In the sense that I can see this as a poem, as well as a song. However, one thing I have been enjoying about this piece is that there is always some kind of historic background information that makes this peace so much more heartbreaking. As readers you’re shown the beauty of this island but also the heartbreak every local goes through because their home is no longer a home, its a showcase.

The Vine and The Fish

Reading this one felt like an interactive comic book. I appreciated the art, the moving images, and the choice of colors the illustrator decided to use. This one was similar to “Ask me for the moon” as it was also not clickable. One thing about this piece that stood out to me was that as a reader, I was already hooked by the moving images, and so when I would scroll and wait for a page to load up… I was more excited to see what was coming next. Aside from the digital framework, the author compares how immigrants are treated to how people view invasive species like the Kudzu vine and Asian carp, showing how harmful words and labels can spread prejudice and fear. Which is why adding in the Trump’s headline of Corona virus being the “Chinese Virus”, was very significant to this strong pieace of e-lit. Leise Hook’s The Vine and The Fish brings awareness to how the human society and our ecosystems are intertwined in a sense. We must be compassionate towards one another, urge empathy and hold people accountable for the words they decide to use.

ask me for the moon & The Vine & The Fish


ask me for the moon

I am greatly looking forward to discussing my selection of electronic literature with you all soon. Linked are my materials for my presentation, including my response paper and powerpoint slides. I hope you all find this poem-as-scholarship as moving as I do. See you all on Monday on Zoom.

Response Paper: https://kean0-my.sharepoint.com/:w:/g/personal/camargav_kean_edu/ET1IyIkUKJtEhxN7Filb_wUBqHYL4ftKowXiRptWHsFlkA?e=isJmCS

Powerpoint: https://kean0-my.sharepoint.com/:p:/g/personal/camargav_kean_edu/EfoKbPQd261EqSuySIrpYEIBf5y-mujEHqoF34aDkM0lBQ?e=BRSeU7


The Vine & The Fish

I almost chose this piece of electronic literature for my selection, but at the last second changed my mind. I referred this piece to Emily, and I am happy she decided to go with it. Much like my own selection, The Vine & The Fish is told through comic-like narrative with a limited color palette. Though in this case, I felt it was a bit of a drawback, as there were some moments in which the color of the text against the coloring of the images was difficult to look at. What I really enjoy about this piece is that, very much like mine, its informative nature. The reader is leaving with newfound knowledge they otherwise may not have been aware of without interaction with this piece. Yes, we have more than likely heard of invasive species in one context or another, but the way in which the author connects it to a sociological aspect of society is unique.

By taking something biological and connecting it with the personal experience, the author breaks down some kind of wall concerning autonomy. The idea of being invasive, whether regarding biological species or in the way the author discusses it, meaning by way of racism, is a manmade occurrence. Meaning, animals, most likely, are not thinking in a way that stretches farther than survival instincts. Yes, there must be some inherent othering within the mind of animals, as that is what the distinguishes predators from prey. Though, this is somewhat akin to racism to some degree, as one group may view another group as a predator or prey. In the human world, these are the groups of the oppressed and the oppressors. So, despite having a difference in the level of autonomy, there are certain experiences that both animals and humans (we are animals!) experience in some form.

With this in mind, I was left wanting more of a connection with the teenage girl who moves. She seems to be the catalyst of the whole story, but fades away in the middle, until the end of the piece in which she, the assumed speaker, states she does not want her children to feel like the vine or the fish. I think having one specific person to bring the narrative and research back to may have bene helpful in garnering a stronger connection between the piece and the interactor, especially if the interactor does have personal experience with the circumstances explored. Continuing with techniques of storytelling, I enjoyed scrolling through the narrative. I feel as though a lot of the literature we have looked at thus far has been quite disjointed. Though, by scrolling and staying in one place, or rather one page, helped me feel grounded and as though I had a true handle on the piece.

Overall, I really enjoyed this one and I think it opens the door for a lot of discussion. I am looking forward to hearing Emily’s insight!

October light, …and ephemerality

October has ripened with its crisp air, its shimmering light, and its colored leaves like shards of golden glass refracting the hues of harvest and reflection. Autumn is a time to pause, to pay attention, and to take account, as our daytime dims and becomes shorter. I hope you have found your own moments to enjoy these rhythmic shifts in the natural world, because they are a bounty that we all should celebrate and share. Nothing lasts forever, but it is beautiful to behold that one thing passes into another. Nature reminds us of this regularly, especially with the shift in seasons.

It was wonderful to spend time thinking about two new pieces thanks to the smart walkthroughs presented by both Jason & Jen last evening. I am so glad to have read Yardley, PA and also Avenue S with all of you on the same night. Thank you to Jason & Jen for taking us through the unique contributions of these two “story worlds”. Perhaps the common thread in these two pieces is the idea of ephemerality, and also erasure.

Yardley, PA

When thinking about Yardley, PA together, we talked about nature, and what is fleeting and human. Thanks Jason for guiding us to think about this piece in the context of collective auditory/visual performance. I think this special elit piece brings us new “kinetic awareness” by asking us to think about how pressing the keys feels— mechanical, musical, embodied? It fosters a kind of mindfulness that Jason spoke about. The title “Yardley, PA” is a small, historic town along the Delaware River just north of Philadelphia and not too far from our own surroundings. It’s a quiet, tree-lined, nostalgic sense of hometown USA. By naming the piece after a real, mundane place, Anderson immediately grounds his abstract digital experiment in geography and memory. He creates a new way to capture a “sense of place”. Anderson & Libertino have constructed a terrain of language, sound, and performance and a place reimagined through digital mediation. Yardley, PA is an experience of place, a digital “place” that you navigate through touch and rhythm (rather than through streets or coordinates). The reader doesn’t read about Yardley so much as move through it sonically and gesturally, with poetic verses leading your way like the traces of one’s own broken memories. This new orientation harnesses a new kind of ephemeral “story magic” that I believe can be emblematic of some electronic literature.

Avenue S

In a different sense, Avenue S also becomes a meditation on “sense of place”. This web-based expansion of Jody Zellen’s long-running Ghost City project is a “poetic meditation” on isolation during the pandemic using topics such as walking, nature, empty public spaces, politics, and protest. I am glad that Jen chose this piece because it pulled on her own graphic-artist “heart strings”. The work functions both as personal journal (an artist’s response to the lockdown experience) and as public net art. Avenue S is a sprawling network of small pages and tiles, experienced by clicking and wandering. The “text” (mostly visual rather than lexical) is distributed across images, animated GIFs, labels, and micro-texts that accumulate as the reader moves through the site. This produces a collage or patchwork reading experience rather than a fixed narrative. The hypertextual navigation style (there is no singular or set way to “read” this piece) is one procedural hallmark of electronic literature. The overall effect is that the work archives and aestheticizes the distinct emptiness of COVID-19 memories, while inviting users to emotionally inhabit this specific place in time. And I think many of us felt this revisitation when “reading” it. For me, this piece reminds me of what I mostly choose to forget. And I think that Jen’s “gift” to us all (the “pandemic mask”) was a thoughtful gesture. Indeed this specific object brings us right back to the recent shared memory of the pandemic. It is a tangible trace of something we have tried to leave behind. As I touched the mask last night, I was remembering the struggle through such a challenging and painful time. Avenue S is like that. It brings us right back through its mediated interactive story-scape.

Closing thoughts on ephemerality

While Yardley, PA performs ephemerality as live, sonic immediacy, Avenue S curates it as an “archival drift”. Yardley, PA produces transient moments of text and tone that vanish as quickly as they appear, dissolving in the moment of interaction. The reader’s path in Avenue S is temporary and idiosyncratic, evoking the impermanent rhythms of city life during the pandemic. This piece dissolves in the endless sprawl of networked time. Both works ultimately treat the digital as a medium where language, sound, and image flicker into being only to fade, making the experience of disappearance itself electronic literature’s subject.

Class slides & agenda

Your to-do list:

Read Ava’s selection: Ask Me about the Moon  

Read Emily’s selection: The Vine & the Fish 

Blog due: Blog about your reading experience and understanding of Ask Me about the Moon & The Vine & the Fish 

**Please remember, elit class will be ONLINE in our ZOOM room next week. I will send you an email sharing the link.

Enjoy this beautiful October week!

Yardley, PA 1997 & Avenue S

This week we covered two wickedly different works of E-lit. First, I want to cover Yardley, PA 1997 by Todd Anderson. This work was pretty cool if I’m being honest. One of the compelling aspects of Anderson’s work is the navigational freedom that he provides in the work. Since the poem and music can be placed in any order, the reader has freedom to navigate the work at their own pace and leisure. The path to the ending is paved through the readers own imagination compared to just the way the author intends. Another aspect of the work is the actual narrative. I loved how the music and the words seemingly matched up. Each line of text works likes a memory, and the music seemingly feels likes a memory coming and fading quickly. The ending really brought the work together for me. The crescendo of both the narrative, and the music both blended perfectly together to illustrate a time in the past we cannot get back. Nostalgia is a topic that is ubiquitous in writing, so it’s always interesting to see how authors use it in their works. In this case, the author uses the interactive aspects of the work to reflect the readers view of the feelings of nostalgia. Reading about the exploits of the speaker and hearing the music did bring back memories from by childhood too. I see this piece as a bit of a literary sandbox. While the author gives their way to work through the piece, they also allow the player to use the piece to create their own work in a way. I really liked this work overall.

            The other work that I covered for this week was Avenue S, by Jody Zellen. This work was way different, though it did provide some really unique and interesting moments as I worked through some of it. With this work totaling almost 400 pages, it was hard to see an actual conclusion when compared to the previous work. In some ways, this work felt endless, with me clicking over and over after seeing each new page. It was cool to see the interactive aspects of this work. For one, hovering over the tab of the window revealed the title of each specific page. These titles provided much needed context to some of the more abstract pages in some cases. While some of the pages felt disjointed, they all stylistically felt connected and consistent. In some cases, this work felt like an art installation at a museum. One of the things I really liked is how the “narrative” builds throughout the work. The way it weaves the feelings of loneliness and isolation while also presenting the backdrop of the pandemic and the social unrest that come with it was fantastic. The imagery, the poetry and the overall organization all came together the longer I worked through the piece. The standout vignette that I loved was “trapped” which consisted of many short repeating animations that outlined the circular nature of the lock-down. People being trapped in their homes, as well as in their daily routines. I can say that this is my favorite work we have covered so far in class.

Presenting on Avenue S – Jody Zellen

Exploring Avenue S by Jody Zellen was an experience that felt both visual and emotional.  I should start by saying that I chose this piece purposefully because I originally was a fine art major and I felt like it had a good amount of art attached to it. 

I then looked-up Jody Zellen, the author/artist, and discovered that she was an artist (graduated RISD) and was a Los Angeles resident.  I was surprised by her residency, because I really believed when she spoke about the ‘city’ she was talking about Manhattan (I guess since I consider that my city).  What I liked about her approach is that sues movement, layering and interactivity to create experiences, rather than just images or a story.  Avenue S truly explored city life during the time of COVID-19.

From the moment I entered the piece, it had a quiet, almost eerie energy: Urban streets without people, fragments of text, and shifting images that seemed to appear and disappear on their own. It didn’t feel like something to “read” in the traditional sense, but more like something to move through, at my own pace, noticing what caught my attention.  Also, I felt like I needed to take my time, that it brought me right back to COVID.

My experience with COVID was different then others, much like this piece.  We were asked to work-from-home, but only for about 5 or 6 weeks.  I had worked at home in a previous career and found it to actually be more work then in you went to your office, so I was somewhat enjoying my house.  I was able to take walks around my neighborhood and do my own art.  It seems that Jody Zellen and I do not share a similar feeling about such things.  For one thing, her experiences is very much city oriented (lots of people – then none, etc.) My experience was very suburban – no people down the shore in March anyway, so this was a kind-of welcomed solitude. 

The stark, black-and-white imagery gave the work a haunting kind of beauty. It reminded me of walking through a city on a summer weekend night when the city (my city) would empty out and go to the Hamptons. The emptiness and repetition of certain visuals felt intentional, as if Zellen was trying to capture the rhythm of the city when no one’s around, places in the city you would find that are small forgotten corners.  It also paced the passing of time. 

Zellen captured a real sense of monotony in parts of the navigation, where certain images or patterns repeated, and the clicks didn’t always lead somewhere new or not new. At first, it felt a little repetitive, but then I realized that was probably the point. It seemed to mirror the routines and rhythms of everyday life, he way days can blur together, especially in the city. I started to see it as Zellen showing us her own day-to-day experience, with its cycles, small shifts, and familiar scenes that might feel the same on the surface but carry quiet differences if you really look.

Because the piece didn’t follow a straightforward story, I wanted to understand how it worked beneath the surface. Again, I’m new to this way of reading and my curiosity and the need for some kind of story seemed to allude me.  I looked up things I may have missed in Zellen’s narration, such as secret hyperlinks or hidden paths that others had found while navigating the project. I found it difficult to get these “secrets” to work, even the ones that I thought I had figured out from the calendared page I stumbled upon eventually. Still, that process of searching added another layer to the experience. It made me think about how we try to make sense of these digital pieces of literature, always expecting some kind of clear direction or payoff that doesn’t always come.  Plus there’s the personal experience of it directing you down your very own story.

As I continued, I realized Avenue S was more about mood, perception, and even a sense of redundancy than about any kind of clear narrative.  he random clicks, the shifting pages, and the unpredictable visuals became their own kind of language. The work made me think about memory and how my memory seems to come in pieces, not in order, and while the memories may not be repeated sometimes they are repeated endlessly.

By the end, I saw Zellen’s Avenue S as less of a story and more of a meditation on solitude, movement, and urban life. It challenges what we consider “literature,” blending photography, design, and poetic fragments into a single experience. Even though I couldn’t access every hidden detail, I still felt like I had wandered through something meaningful. The act of exploring became the story itself.

Yardley, PA 1997 & Avenue S

Exploring Yardley, PA 1997 from the collection Hotwriting (2017) was such a fun and creative experience! I loved how each line of the poem was linked to a key on the keyboard, each one playing its own little music clip. It felt like I wasn’t just reading a poem, it felt like I was performing it. I kept pressing different keys to see how the words and sounds would come together, and every time it created something new, almost like remixing poetry into music. To be honest, I also found it a bit hard to keep up since the words would go away so quickly, and I would miss a couple of lines. But that challenge made it even more engaging, it pushed me to stay focused.

What stood out to me most about this piece was how it changed the way I think about poetry and reading in general. Normally poetry feels still and quiet, something you read at your own pace, but this experience was the complete opposite, it was active and unpredictable. I liked that it gave me control as the reader, yet also reminded me how easily that control can slip away when the words disappeared too soon. It perfectly aligns with digital literature, where text and technology work together to create new forms of meaning and interaction.

Jody Zellen’s Avenue S offered a very different, yet equally compelling, experience. It captures the eerie stillness of life during the Covid pandemic, when empty city streets and suspended routines defined daily life. The work features playful doodles of deserted urban spaces alongside references to the Black Lives Matter protests of summer 2020, grounding it in a moment that was both isolating and socially significant. I was struck by how the minimal interactivity mirrors the experience of a lockdown, there’s little to control, yet the subtle movements and arrangements of words and images draw the viewer in, creating a quiet, reflective space.

Together, these works highlight the wide range of digital literature. Yardley, PA 1997 invites playful interaction, letting readers perform, remix, and create alongside the text, while Avenue S uses minimal interactivity to reflect on a historical moment and evoke deep emotions. Both demonstrate how technology can expand the possibilities of reading, turning poetry and visual works into immersive experiences that are dynamic and deeply connected to the moments they represent.

A World riting 2025-10-20 07:51:56

Lareice’s Digital World

The Aesthetics and Experiential Dimensions of Interactive Electronic Literature

Interactive electronic literature, Yardley PA, and Avenue S, represents a dynamic merging of narrative, visual art, and digital technology. Unlike traditional print-based texts, these works invite readers to engage with storytelling as an immersive, multisensory experience. Through the integration of instrumental soundscapes, animated net art, and game-like navigation, electronic literature transforms passive reading into active participation.

One of the most compelling aspects of this genre is its resemblance to video game mechanics. Users often navigate through the narrative by pressing a single button, which propels them into new story environments. This tangible interaction fosters a sense of agency and exploration, allowing readers to move through the text as if journeying through a virtual landscape. The interface itself becomes a narrative device, guiding users through layers of meaning and emotional resonance.

Vibrant animations and net art aesthetics contribute to a rich tapestry of symbolic and affective imagery

Visual elements play a critical role in shaping the reader’s experience. Vibrant animations and net art aesthetics contribute to a rich tapestry of symbolic and affective imagery. These visuals are not merely decorative; they function as extensions of the narrative, enhancing ideological depth and emotional tone. The interplay between text and image creates a blended form of storytelling that is both intellectually stimulating and visually engaging.

Equally significant is the role of sound. Instrumental effects and ambient audio cues heighten the immersive quality of the work, reinforcing mood and pacing. Sound becomes a narrative element, capable of revealing memory, tension, and transformation. When combined with visual and interactive components, it produces a comprehensive sensory experience that exceeds conventional literary boundaries.

Interactive electronic literature exemplifies the evolving nature of storytelling

Storytelling in the digital age with interactive electronic literature exemplifies the evolving nature of storytelling. It offers a powerful platform for creative expression, pedagogical innovation, and emotional engagement. For scholars, educators, and artists alike, this genre opens new possibilities for exploring trauma, identity, and healing through multimodal narrative forms. As digital media continues to reshape the literary landscape, electronic literature stands as a testament to the enduring power of story reimagined through sound, image, and interaction. It is an engaging and enjoyable storytelling style.