“I feel like a wet seed wild in the hot blind earth.”
Discussing all things poetry related with Olivia and Lindsay during our peer review session last week was a treat! Lindsay had Olivia and I dig in immediately with a free writing activity “to get the juices flowing,” (quoting Linds, here, who also prompted us to write a poem with a “snake” in mind). Yes, on an early Friday morning perched on a satin, floral printed, brown chair in the Mills Hall living room, I became the incarnation of a modern day Emily Dickinson as I drenched out a nuanced and absurd version of “A Narrow Fellow in the Grass.” And Olivia shared wonderful portrait of the menacing snake in nature's wild reverie.
After our recitations, we discussed the Mary Ruefle poem, “During a Break From Feeling,” a treatise type piece which expounds upon the certain characteristics requested of those writers who are aspiring towards success not only in the small world of creative writing but also in the larger world of literary and academic publishing. Essentially, the poem offers tips for success. This line: “Happiness is not always good, it can lead to lacklusterness/Or what is worse, slovenliness” caused wonder how much I rely on my feelings as a driving force in my creative pursuits and endeavors; if the melodrama--as everybody does know that the writers happen to be introverted theater geeks--contributes to more destruction than it contributes to good construction if emotional highs and the lows out rule the steady equilibrium achieved through constant, steady practice.
Lindsay asked us, “What are your intentions and goals as I writer?” While still in the primitive, experimental stages, the question felt overwhelming. What career DO I imagine unfolding for myself as I continue along this shiny, glittering path towards…
Yet, before lofty ambitions drift me along like a kite swerving in the wind, my fluffy way of saying: “before I get too carried away with myself” as I am wanting to make most of the opportunity provided by the here and now, pinned and penning, as I tap tap on my laptop for this get ‘em tiger thesis commitment, ma-ma ma-ma! I am anxious to create new material and as I am feeling so inspired by this brilliant community. I also really want to check out is the open mic scene since it sounds like the Bay Area popping with it.
And the last question the Ruefle piece inspired for me, which I’ll share, is: How do we attract listeners, respect, appreciation, and opportunities? While fondness for a Coney Island paradise flaunts a sugar sprinkled, carpe diem scent and, my oh my, a life without joy is demise, let me tell you, this senior, is waking up to cultivating deeper sense of dedication and commitment towards her writing practices in hopes that I may spark up as many minds and rooms as my pinky finger can keep a promise.
I've always loved the way you write Marci. Something about the tone that feels so natural and yet also surprising, and it really works for me.
ReplyDeleteAnywho.
You convinced me to take a gander at the Mary Rueffle poem and I thought it was quite fun. You picked out that interesting line about happiness, and it's something that I've been thinking about too. My mood is so controlled by the weather, and I have certain stories that I can only write when the sun is shining because to write from a place of grey clouds would ruin the tone. My thesis was born in rain, and I've been struggling to get back to that gloom, and that comforting rhythm of the plips against the window each night. I haven't really felt inspired until now, when I can hear the wind whipping through the wet trees. I feel like I'm awake again. But it's such a precarious place to be. If the sun were to push its way through, I'd be happy and scatter-brained again. I need to find an internal place that I can write from, the rainstorm inside of me.
Last semester Patricia Powell had us do an exercise where we wrote down a description of the room we were in, and then took a moment to imagine our favorite place to be when we were growing up, and then wrote another description of that same room. The difference between the first groggy afternoon writing workshop description and the second child-like joy for adventure description was so remarkable. You've got to write from the right place. If you know where the right place is.
you writing the skin cells of ideas and fill them with your unique take. going for the spark.e
ReplyDeleteI was really struck by the line you quoted - “Happiness is not always good, it can lead to lacklusterness/Or what is worse, slovenliness”. I interpreted that first part into my mode of completing any task: it's cool to do something fun and exciting, but there's always more.
ReplyDeleteI can tell you're inspired and ready to write, and I'm positive you'll write something that'll amaze you and make you think, "It can't get better than that" - but it can. This isn't to say, don't feel happy about anything you write, because you totally can take that time to celebrate...but there's always more. When I read your point about what you're going to do after Mills in terms of being a poet, it just made me think: there'll be more for you to produce as a poet as long as you don't become content and think there's nothing better. You're already an amazing writer, and you'll only get better and better with time...as long as you avoid settling.