Marked by a lyri­cal­ly explo­sive mix of pathos, phi­los­o­phy and lin­guis­tic play, Yid­dish apho­risms, Midrashic and Kab­bal­is­tic ref­er­ences, Aero­to­ma­nia: The Book of Lume­na­tions, pas­sion­ate­ly nego­ti­ates tur­bu­lence, loss, nos­tal­gia, and hope, point­ing to a jubi­lant present that is ever-arriv­ing.

​“The Book of Lume­na­tions” sec­tion, takes as its jump­ing off point, the Bib­li­cal Eicha, The Book of Lamen­ta­tions, and through reflec­tion, deflec­tion, refrac­tion and the frac­tur­ing of lan­guage, homo­phon­i­cal­ly re-sit­u­ates the orig­i­nal text to the present epoch, explor­ing how dark­ness can be a form of light, and ways that in rup­ture, there is rap­ture.

In exquis­ite full col­or, the ​“Aero­to­ma­nia” sec­tion is both a love let­ter and a lament to the air­plane, speak­ing to ways both indi­vid­u­als and mean­ing get trans­port­ed to mul­ti­ple and some­times unex­pect­ed des­ti­na­tions; and how, like lan­guage itself, the air­plane becomes a sym­bol of hope. And as we fly through inter­lin­guis­tic puns, pas­sion, plea­sure, and promise — through a vari­ety of zones and reg­is­ters soar­ing to high­er and high­er lev­els— Aero­to­ma­nia car­ries its ​“pas­sen­gers” through rad­i­cal­ly trans­for­ma­tive pos­si­bil­i­ties of mean­ing and being.