I’ve redesigned and rebuilt open access digital publications and project sites, like the Sounding Spirit initiative and the Journal for Humanities in Rehabilitation. I’ve helped analyze the public impact of digital archives like the NEH-funded Voyages database. I worked as a project manager to coordinate the development of a suite of augmented reality and web applications through which visitors to the Atlanta History Center can interact with a 49-foot tall (and 133-year-old) cylindrical painting about one of the key battles in the Civil War. I’ve also consulted on digital publishing projects through the Mellon Foundation’s initiative at Emory to determine the future of scholarly publishing, envisioning new possibilities for digital publications with faculty and graduate students.
I see digital as more than data on machines. To be digital means being connected and in flux — a living object that invites human interactivity and experience. Using this definition (or lack of one) means that in my work, I can creatively identify opportunities for digital materials within even the most traditional analog project or publication.
In my own research, I found printed texts that I argued are intrinsically digital poems: inherently interactive artifacts that have been predictably failed by print. (And I made them into those digital objects to see what happened next.) I built websites for interactive Emily Dickinson poems originally written on scraps of paper, abolitionist poems first printed within the ephemeral social networks of newspapers, prose poems like Moby Dick that don’t unfold in order, and a fragmentary autobiography by Walt Whitman that only makes sense when read as a virtual collection of texts instead of a series.