A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Forty-Six

I used my insights from yesterday to push myself into work again tonight, and it worked quite well.  Even more, I feel as if the work itself was valuable.  I don't mean that I am certain the poems are good, rather that I felt I was doing something real, was reaching towards new ideas.  So much of the time I feel stuck inside my own small world, even when I am writing poetry.  It is natural to focus on the things that are happening, that are part of daily existence, and to want to vent about frustrations or problems that are ongoing, and that is not an invalid source for poetry, but I often want to reach for other ideas as well.  It can be, of course, that both happen at once, that the personal connects to those other themes, and that is generally what I hope for when I write, that something small can become a symbol or a way in towards another matter.  I don't know if that is exactly what happened tonight, though it did feel that some of the poems began with an intent to express something minor and instead moved into a wholly different space.  I think, as I said yesterday, this approach is letting me remove certain pressures from my thinking and allowing me to get out of my own way.  I am still, in many ways, as frustrated and stifled as before, but I can, at the very least, find a way to move beyond that in order to write.  I appreciate that, even if it does not make things better in a larger sense.  At the very least, perhaps I will be able to get myself to bed a bit earlier as a result, though I do believe it will also help me creatively.  I certainly felt that way in my work tonight.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Neighborhood Inhabitants

Neighborhood Inhabitants There was a fox once, and another time, otters, and now a peacock that we think got lost during one of the storms. She stays down on the other end of the street, though, does not visit us. We have a racoon family that stays in our tree some nights, and there is a baby lizard, a brown basilisk, who we have seen several times. It is not supposed to be here, is invasive and troublesome to the local ecosystem, as are the duck.  I hear there are giant snails now who eat stucco or concrete or something of that sort. I have not seen one, though, I just heard they are here and big as my fist.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, One-Thousand-Eight-Hundred-And-Seventy-Three

I am still finding it difficult to get back to a more productive work schedule at the moment.  In part, I am sure it is that I gave myself permission to slack off a bit, and it is difficult to walk that back, especially because I am still writing and being productive, even if not to the same degree. I know it would be good to get back to doing more writing, but I also know that I am still meeting my core obligations, even if at a more minimal level.  Really, I just need to make the choice and force myself to stick to it.  To that end, I am planning to at least get back to work on my longer projects again tomorrow, even if I don't increase the poetry output right away.
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Thirty-Three

I received my acceptance to attend workshop at the Palm Beach Poetry Festival next year and am very excited to be working with Matthew Olzmann, a poet whose work I have admired for some time.  He has a rare capacity for being simultaneously absurd and serious in ways that are hysterical, but with devastating insights underneath.  I feel quite fortunate to have the PBPF, and can say, honestly, that each workshop I have attended there has been incredible.  As a person who has taken many workshops in my life, and who often finds them wanting, I am always astounded at the caliber of the classes at the festival, both in the instruction and in the community of poets I have encountered.  I only wish it could be more than just one week out of the year.
Read more