Michael Andrews Arts

See Announcements for details on publication of Archilochus poems in Arion Magazine.


by Michael Andrews


Artist Book

Woman is a compilation from many source projects. It has 17 individual prints.
Woman as angel; woman as victim; woman as mother; woman. There is no adequate description of this work other than a narrowly focused view of woman as I found her; woman in extremis. This view has nothing to do with woman as sexually desirable. Rather it is confined to women as I have encountered them in the world and how the world has treated them. They may be victims or angry, mothers or slaves, but always, it seems to me vulnerable.

First Printed 2004. 50 6x9 inch pages of text using Lydian and Goudy typefaces, integrated with 17 photographic illustrations and printed on 190 gram, a natural, 100% rag, archival paper. There are a total of 11 separate photographic pigment prints printed on 300 gram paper. Each print is numbered and signed by the author. Limited to 49 copies. The edition is loose leaf in linen binding with the cover image in a recessed window. The cover image is printed on canvas.

The standard slipcase is made of Pine, Fir, Redwood, Cedar or Poplar. For an additional $75.00 Oak, Mahogany or Maple may be ordered. For an additional $100.00 Rosewood, Teak, Walnut, Cherry, Padouk or Cocobolo may be ordered. The window is clear Lucite. Individual prints are available in various sizes.


Woman Sleeping On The Steps
Of The Church Of San Francisco, Cusco

She is old

and it's a free bed.
The steps of the church are stone,
softer than all the men
she ever slept on,
all the men who crushed her
between a stone penis and a dirt floor.
She kicked so many children
into the earth.
Some she buried
between meals and men.
The men died
of altitude, cocaine and culture.
The mills are all stone.
The winters are all cold.
Man's first beast of burden
was a woman.
A woman is good
for cooking and fucking.
Old women are good for nothing.
Young women have laughter.
She buried
so many.

In a few months the snow will come.

She rolls the world in wool
sets her hat
against the wall.

It will be a long night.