Inspirations from Vera Pavlova

In the April 2012 issue of Poetry, there's a great prose piece by Vera Pavlova.  I'm not familiar with her work, but I found much to like in this notebook style prose piece. 

I should stress that I don't agree with everything that she wrote, but I did find much of it intriguing, saying things in ways I hadn't considered before.



Here are some interesting snippets:

"My writing:  hard-boiled.  My life:  scrambled soft."

"Poetry should be written the way adultery is committed:  on the run, on the sly, during the time not accounted for.  And then you come home, as if nothing ever happened."

"Went to bed with an unfinished poem in my mouth and could not kiss."

"Any one of my poems fits on a palm of the hand, and many on a palm of a child's hand."

"Madness is inspiration idling in neutral."

"I live my life moving forward on rails that I lay myself.  Where do I get the rails?  I dismantle the ones I have gone over."

"My diaries are letters from my former self to my future self.  My poems are replies to those letters."

"If poems are children, poetry readings are PTA meetings."

"An ideal poem:  every line of it can serve as a title for a book."

Happy Birthday, Camille Paglia

Today is the birthday of Camille Paglia, who has been called a feminist, an anti-feminist, and all sorts of names in between.  For those of us who were in grad school in the 90's, we were in awe of any scholarly work which became a bestseller, like Paglia's Sexual Personnae.

Of course, if I had transformed my dissertation on domestic violence in the Gothic into a larger book and given it a sexy title, maybe I'd have had similar success.  I will always wonder if I should have done more to turn my dissertation into a book.  I had a good idea:  I looked at the realistic way that domestic violence of all sorts was presented in a genre, the Gothic, famous for its unbelievability, and I explored what those writers might be saying, in a code of sorts.  But to turn my dissertation into a book, I'd have had to have written at least another 200 pages, and I didn't feel like I had that much more to say.

But I digress.

I have vague memories of Paglia in the 90's.  I have vague memories of being both infuriated and intrigued by things she would say, but I can't remember anything specifically.

Now, I have a fondness for those times and for my younger self.  Now our collective attention spans seem so short that it's impossible to imagine that we would have an ongoing public argument/discussion about how feminists are aging (Paglia attacked Germaine Greer) or about icons like Simone de Beauvoir.  I vaguely recall feminists of all ages weighing in on comments that Paglia would make--and they'd all get air time.

Hard to imagine that happening now.  Or maybe I'm just not as plugged in, so I don't see it.

I've always appreciated that Paglia comes back to poetry and literary criticism.  She's always been an ardent supporter.  She's been a cheerleader, of sorts, especially of poets from past centuries.  She likely could have made more money from more inflammatory subjects, but she gives poetry a platform.

Paglia was born in 1947, so she's still got time left for important work--ah, the joy of being a writer, as opposed to a ballerina, whose best years are done by one's 20's.  It will be interesting to see where she goes next.

Poetry Prompts Using Characters From Other Works

Some of us are about to start our April regimen of writing a poem a day. You might be like me, with lots of poetry ideas stored up that you itch to get started writing.


But maybe you're not inspired. So, I offer here a week's worth of poetry prompts. I decided to focus them all on fairy tales, myth, and other types of tales that already exist. That way, some of the work has been done for you.

Also, for those of you who teach, I've found these prompts lead to all sorts of interesting creations.

So, first you must choose a fairy tale, a Bible story, a myth, your favorite novel (or TV show or movie) or some other tale that has a narrative. Then try some of the following:

--Write a poem from the point of view of one of the minor characters. Don't limit yourself to the human characters. For example, what would Cinderella's pumpkin which was turned into a pumpkin and then into a coach and then back into a pumpkin say?

--Write a poem that's a prequel or a sequel. How are Cinderella and the Prince getting along 10 years after the Ball?

--If you're working with an older story, modernize it. For example, think about the big, bad wolf. What would today's big, bad wolf, come to blow down our houses, look like? A predatory lender perhaps?

--Take one of the strong images from the work and incorporate it into a poem that has nothing to do with the original story. Could you use the image of a glass slipper without mentioning fairy stories?

--Take strong images from several works, combine them, and see what happens. For example, take melting wings from mythology, glass slippers, red capes, a baby in a manger, and Oliver Twist's empty porridge bowl--put them all in a poem, and what kind of glorious mess will result?

--Take characters from two (or more) different works and have them collide. What happens when the Prodigal Son meets Cinderella during his travels?

--On a day when you have no time to write, turn the myth or fairy tale into a haiku (you remember haiku--3 lines, 5 syllables in the first and third line and 7 in the second).

Legends Leaving Us

We lost two great artists this past week:  Earl Scruggs and Adrienne Rich.  Both took their art forms in ways they wouldn't otherwise have gone.  The world is different because they lived amongst us.  At least they had both lived long, full lives, which mitigates the loss just slightly.

People reading this blog are likely less familiar with the work of Earl Scruggs than with the writing of Adrienne Rich, although you may have heard more of his work than you immediately recognize.  For example, he wrote the theme to The Beverly Hillbillies and his most famous work, "Foggy Mountain Breakdown," was used in the film Bonnie and Clyde.  But even if you haven't heard those works, you're hearing his influence every time someone picks up a banjo.  He changed bluegrass music, country music and folk music forever; you could make the case that he also influenced other musical genres too, like rock.  Even people who don't know much about music can hear what he's doing with the banjo, how hard it is, how nimble his fingers must be to move the way they did.

I've written about Adrienne Rich before (most notably here).  I first became familiar with her work when I asked my favorite Sociology professor, "Aren't there any female sociologists?"  He gave me the work of sociologists studying motherhood, and I read Rich's Of Woman Born.  What an amazing book.  But I felt that way about all of her books.

Susan Rich wrote a great tribute to Adrienne Rich.  I found this part of her blog post most inspiring:  "When I think of poems that have been crucial in my life, poems that are sustenance -- that allow me to breathe in a world I need to believe in -- it's Adrienne Rich's work that I return to. Her passing has made me already recommit to my poems, to remember that living in a certain way is necessary."

Yes, let us recommit ourselves to our creative work.  Let us vow to live in ways that will bring about a better world!

Here are some quotes from Adrienne Rich which have been particularly meaningful for me:

"I know that the rest of my life will be spent working for transformations I shall not live to see realized. I feel daily, hourly impatience and am pledged to the active and tenacious patience that a lifetime commitment requires: the can be no resignation in the face of backlash, setback, or temporary defeat; there can be no limits on what we allow ourselves to imagine" (On Lies, Secrets and Silence, page 270).

"You must write, and read, as if your life depended on it. That is not generally taught in school. At most, as if your livelihood depended on it: the next step, the next job, grant, scholarship, professional advancement, fame; no questions asked as to further meanings. And let's face it, the lesson of the schools for a vast number of children--hence of readers--is This is not for you (page 32, emphasis Rich's).

"All art is political in terms of who was allowed to make it, what brought it into being, why and how it entered the canon, and why we are still discussing it" (page 95, Blood, Bread, and Poetry, emphasis Rich's).

Pictures from a Quilt Show

 

On March 17, I went to the Quilt Show by the Sea.  We saw all sorts of beautiful quilts, but the one above impressed me most; it was all hand quilted!

Below you see a detail from one of the panels; marvel at the evenness of the hand stitching:

We were talking about the quilt below, when a woman standing near us grabbed a corner of it in her bare hand, a big no no at quilt shows.  I said, "You're not supposed to touch them!"

She said, "I'm the woman who made it, so it's OK."  Happily, she wasn't mad at my attempt to protect her quilt from oils and other yuckiness on human hands that can ruin a quilt.

We were so lucky to be able to talk to her.  It was great to hear about her process.  She did the quilt by paper piecing, which explains the precision in the quilt.

She said, "It took me such a long time to finish."  When we asked her how long a long time is, she said, "Two months."  We all sighed, since it usually takes us much longer to complete our projects.  And something with all those little pieces would take me a small forever.

I much prefer to create quilts like the one below, something with long strips and not too many tiny pieces to stitch together.  I can keep long strips going together, but small pieces can go astray in all sorts of ways.

Below, a detail from the quilt.  Note the safari theme to the fabrics.  Then look at the larger quilt above.  Do you think the quilter is making a statement about zoos and windows?  Bars?  Or am I reading too much into it?

I love art quilts best.  We didn't see many art quilts, but there were some breathtaking ones:

Below, a detail of the kelp.  How do I know it's kelp?  Because the sign told me so.

Below you'll see the quilt I voted for as the one I liked best.  From a distance, it looks like a lot of the effects were done with paint or other effects. 

As you may be able to see below, it's all done with fabric.

In short I came away both inspired and a bit sad.  Once I had more time to quilt, to do more with my inspirations.  But that's not where I am right now.  I'll likely have time again.  So for now, I'll store up my inspirations.

For more pictures of quilts from the Quilt Show by the Sea, see this post on my theology blog.

Rain Training

It is oddly rainy this morning.  I say odd because we're in the dry season when it so rarely rains and odd because the forecast didn't call for rain.

I went out this morning for my morning run at the beach.  It felt misty, but not rainy, almost dewy.  Soon, however, the mist turned to outright rain.

There weren't many people out, just me and a few other stalwart souls who didn't have sense to come in out of the rain.

When you're a stalwart soul, you get some rewards.  I love the feeling of being outside when very few others are.  I love rain on my face, especially here, when the rain is not often so refreshing.  We usually get tropical downpours, which are steamy and pounding and kind of scary.  This rain was the kind of rain I could run through and not get soaked thoroughly in a matter of minutes.  I could enjoy the gentle patter of rain on the leaves and rain in my hair.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I'll admit that I did cut my run short.  I've messed up my leg more than once by running in soaked shoes.  And I always worry that a gentle rain will soon turn harsh.

My morning run made me think of similar situations.  Of course, I first thought of poetry, and other art forms which aren't as popular.  But those of us who write poems get a certain refreshing reward.

I also thought of laid off workers who are out there in a place that few of us would willingly go.  I wonder what kinds of things they're learning that few of us will ever know.

Maybe I have that kind of situation on the brain because I'm listening to people talk about The Hunger Games.  I have dystopias of all kinds on the brain. 

Yesterday I went to lunch with some co-workers.  We're all a bit fretful about the future of higher education and whether or not we'll have jobs in the coming years.  I'm trying to shift from crisis thinking to seeing opportunities that I wasn't able to see before.

What are those opportunities?  I don't know yet.  But I'm trying to train myself to be alert.  I'm trying not to give in to despair and hopelessness.

Running in the rain helps me practice optimism and see the advantages to a setting that others would see as grim.  It's training in more ways than one!

And no umbrella necessary!

Staring at the Sky

It's been quite a week, both celestially and terrestrially, for spectacular sights.  After reading this article in The Washington Post yesterday, I headed outside last night, soon after sunset.  Even in our light polluted skies, I could see the sliver of moon, the brightness of Jupiter nearby, with Venus beaming steadily above them.

I made my spouse come outside to look.  I got the camera and experimented with the night setting.

The night setting does expand the light and sometimes makes lit objects blurry, smeary, or jagged looking.  So, the planets expand into smears, instead of bright dots, the moon looks half full, instead of a sliver.  But you get the idea.

But how about here on earth?  If you live in the right part of the world, you're enjoying cherry blossoms.  Down here in South Florida, we have the yellow tab tree which has burst into full, buttery bloom.

I remember the first year down here, where these unremarkable trees suddenly flowered.  I asked my coworkers what they were, and they didn't know, and furthermore, seemed surprised that I was so enchanted.

The other morning, I saw one of the trees in full bloom, and a man beneath it, gazing up into its flowers.  He stood there for several minutes--maybe for even longer, since I drove away, and he was still staring up.

I don't have any pictures of my own for yellow tab trees, but if you go here, you'll see plenty.

I feel like I spend much of my life indoors, staring at screens.  And it's not just me:  "Owen Gingerich, a professor emeritus of astronomy at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics, said that the spectacle in the western sky is so beguiling that 'even our graduate students are aware of what’s happening.'  That’s an inside joke because graduate students in astronomy do all their work now on computers and with equations and don’t spend a lot of time acting like Galileo and looking through telescopes" (from The Washington Post article link above).

It's good to get out, to remember the enchantments of nature.