Ok, so somedays I beat myself up over my writing and somedays I beat myself myself up for three days straight. I've been trying to put together just one poem over the last three days. Ok, I've been working on two and so far, they both suck. And it depresses me. I'm about to meet one of my all time favorite poets, Charles Simic. (Click here for a sample.) And I'm scared out of my mind. He's going to be my thesis adviser.
I don't know if this is just me. I'm guessing it's every artist. It seems just as you figure out yourself, your style, the way you work best, just when you think you've GOT IT and this is HOW I PRODUCE ART it backfires the very next time. I've been trying to recreate whatever I "do" for three days to no avail.
If there's any poem I love more than anything it is "Birches" by Robert Frost. Every single day I sit down, I think to myself, "This is the day I write Birches." My Birches. And every single day I fail. Or maybe I've written it and I don't know it yet. Maybe someone else will judge that for me. (Now there's the mark of a truly pretentious artist. Believing that someone will take the time to judge their work in the future. Ha!)
So I've just got to let go and write something else. I can't be Frost or Williams today. So I channeled some Ogden Nash and Billy Collins to get me out of a funk. They're great for that. Here's the result. Not my Birches. But it's another poem. That feels like an accomplishment after three days.
Rockaway
I was surprised to find stranded, so countless many of them,
jellyfish all down the hard beach sand.
Bending close, I expected them to pulse,
rise and fall a little, like land stranded fish,
but they were better at playing dead or
just being dead I suppose.
They were so curious, not undulating in the water,
just lying there looking like various non-jelly things.
Like the covers to headlights or contact lenses for giraffes.
It almost looked like a crate of breast implants washed onshore
and something about that made me feel dirty.
And want to feel them.
Now it seems cliché to compare this to the parable
of the little girl who finds a million starfish on the sand
and spends all day throwing them back in.
Because I thought of it immediately,
therefore I must be very cliché.
It seemed noble to do and I’m sure my wife
or even the passerby people would be impressed.
But I’m actually afraid of jelly fish
so I just kicked them with my flip flops
in case they had any sting left in them.
Nasty little things.
I think there's this artistic cosmic rift thing that happens every-so-often. And for some reason it affects about every artistic person I know all at once. A paradigm shift of epic proportions. I'm pretty certain we're in one now.
ReplyDeleteI have no good advice but I do have this great quote by Agnes de Mille that I think may help--"The artist never entirely knows. We guess. We may be wrong, but we take leap after leap in the dark."
I think your leaps are lovely. The finest aspect of your poetry is that it is yours, and you're not afraid to share it. Stay true to your craft and your Birches will emerge in due time.
James, I think you're an excellent writer. However, as a writer myself, I know how you feel. I find when I feel best about writing is often when I'm in a depressed mood. Sadness/frustration/anger really gets those creative juices flowing for me. That or extreme happiness. Since I haven't really felt either lately, I haven't been able to write much. I wish I could find some other way to do well at my craft other than feeling extreme emotion in order to do it!
ReplyDeleteThat poem was good, but that photo was HELL YEAH! Is that like a decorative porcelain plate that only asskickers are allowed to order online? I want one in my house so very badly, right above a mantle I will build for the sole purpose of receiving that plate above it. The only thing that could have made it awesomer would have been to insert captain Ahab with a harpoon standing on the whale. thankyou for finding that.
ReplyDeleteJames, you poetry has always impressed me and I especially love the voice of this last one. Good job writing it. Actually, I think it is good that you are not always full of poems coming out and inspirations taking form immediately and profusely. Think of the children, James, the ones who will be writing their college thesis in thirty years and wanting to study you as their Bobbie Frost. Do you really want to make them read seventeen collected anthologies of all the amazing stuff you wrote? Talk about overwhelming.
ReplyDeleteBetter just to keep on and make those sometimes seemingly infrequent gems. They'll add up someday. Don't worry about "Birches." You're just a young buck yet. Why write the best poem of your life now? How would you ever be satisfied writing lesser poetry for all time afterward? I, for one, am super proud to claim I know you. And Charles Simic is amazing, I am jealous.
amen gillz. James you are too good. that poem was a day maker.
ReplyDeletealso nice use of brandon bird. that is one of my favs by him.
I really hate that most of the greatest art is produced on accident. I feel that way about all of my best poems and songs...that I just sort of stumbled into them. Which is really inconvenient.
ReplyDeleteBut amen to all that encouragement crap up there. Your gift of words inspires, you know.
Often I sit down with pen and paper and hope that today I will write my own "Expiration Dates."
Which is a poem that YOU wrote, incidentally.
Thanks, dudes.
ReplyDeleteBonnie,
I've never thought of myself in any sort of huge cosmic shift but I like it. I'm fighting or riding the universe. I like it.
Nice quote. I wish I knew what was going on. Stupid dark and those stupid leaps.
Sarah,
Ah, well, thank ye, miss. The old fringe emotions used to work for me and now they don't. Now I need to be centered more. I don't know what has changed. Maybe that'll change, too.
Aaron,
Yeah, the poem's okay. But that's a little Brandon Bird for ya. You know him, my McSweeney's reading friend. Darren turned me on to that sweetness.
Em,
ReplyDeleteI looked it up and Frost didn't write Birches until he was 46. So I'm good. I just have to push myself to win the Yale Younger Poet's Prize.
Thank you for your compliments. It means a lot coming from a writer I respect.
Darren,
Brandon Bird is another one of those things I have to thank you for. You've always been good about my writing. Gracias.
Liz,
That's a very flattering thing you said. Thank you. I'm excited that poem will be published this December in RATTLE. You can even buy that magazine at Barnes and Noble. That's a big step. Hope you stick with your own writing. There's some beautiful things you're doing.
I LOVED that poem. really. Like really. And even more so I can relate to you with my love for drawing. Somedays i just feel stuck. Otherdays i feel on fire. But regardless, I love looking through it all days or months or years later and still be able to say, "Heh, i did that."
ReplyDelete