Before answering posed questions I have an apology. I am behind on posts! So, I may be posting rather often in the next few days to catch up. Be warned!
What are your feelings about the illustration? What drives these feelings?
I find this illustration to be in flux. The jellyfish is in between states. I want it to answer questions for me. There is both a delicacy reflected in the appearance of tentacles floating, and still there is strength. The hub of the body of the jellyfish is a muscled mass. The creature must carry a weighted cargo. Strength here is evident. The jellyfish does not appear to be struggling, however, I worry about movement. I am concerned with the distance the creature must travel and if he will make it.
What drives these feelings? Oh, I don’t know. I am going to sit on the couch and put my feet up, wave my hand about the air and ramble on as though I am being analyzed for the remainder of the blog session. I am still on the nature of the creature and the nature of the contents it carries. My imagination brings me to other places in the illustration to insert into the piece I am working on writing. I am concerned with what is essential here. How is this creature thriving? How will it survive? This is quite literal of me, and again, my imagination won’t move off it of. The first lines I wrote to begin the writing session for a poem are, “In between states of recovery/ Where is water? Where is air?” I’m sure these lines will go, but this is where my mind is focused. And I will attempt to mine this and push forward into a discovery.
Can you see yourself in the illustration?
I can see myself sitting in the basket! I’m teasing. I can see myself in between states of being carrying forth a discovery, one that uses strength to carry. Yes, this is life, I suppose. Do we not all carry forth our personal discoveries? Or carry things that are not our own?
Do you find yourself in your writing, too?
This is an interesting question. I find myself looking for the writer in the poems I read. And it becomes a tricky question, as poets are we not to admit we are in the writing? In my undergrad as a literature major we were told not to connect the author with the writing in analyzing text. I find this so difficult to do. And again, in my MFA this came up. I personally cannot separate the writer from the writing. This is not to say all writing comes from a personal experience but rather that as a writer in writing there is an impulse within pulling you to sit with the image, idea, or thread of emotional response to something whether it be a world event, observation of strangers interacting or even if the point of inspiration of writing is watching a hawk pick and kill its prey. The impulse is the exchange between the writer mind (and all “mind” encompasses) and that which is observed. This is where separation is difficult for me.
For myself, the writing is a direct result of my life, or at least the life of my mind, if not my emotional, intellectual, spiritual reflection or output of what I am taking in.
I literally find myself in my writing. And by this I mean, this is where I discover who I am. What I think and how I feel. So, I am answering this question in a sense by avoiding the question!
As far as the draft of this piece I am working on for Lamplighter magazine I suppose, yes, I am in here. I think we all have certain propensities or patterns of thought. When you are looking at art it is very much subjective. Your response to a piece of artwork is coming from you interacting within your mind to the artist’s creation.
Try injecting yourself into your writing and amplify the aspects of you that already exist in it.
I will do so. And when done return here or in another blog post to report on how this influenced the writing, and or if any discoveries were made that will stay in the piece.