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larryhammerThere are tensions and tensions. Some are productive. Stories without tension don't "go", like clockwork with a slack spring. Some people find the pressure of a deadline is essential for working hard. And there's those ever-unpopular "growth experiences".
Some tensions are ... less productive. Triangle relationships, at least the sort that resolve into one leg instead of a triad. Working two projects, one aimed at forcing myself to observe the outer world, the other driving me to carry flashcards everywhere. Asshats in daily life.
Tensions and tensions.
Writing purely objectively about nature is a non-starter. There has to be something personal, some emotional connection, for the reader to latch onto -- something to hook an interpretation onto. But if it's too personal, then the work isn't universal enough: it collapses into a string of personal symbols without exegesis, or is just a confessional journal made public -- at which point the subject isn't nature but the writer. This is very different stuff I'm used to writing, narrative poetry and short lyrics from a persona. There's similarities to crafting an online persona, a subset me that sequesters some topics -- but it's slantways from that. A different slice of self, one that responds openly but suppresses as much ego as possible.
And, of course, each poem has to have its own tension, to make them go.
Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.
---L.
Some tensions are ... less productive. Triangle relationships, at least the sort that resolve into one leg instead of a triad. Working two projects, one aimed at forcing myself to observe the outer world, the other driving me to carry flashcards everywhere. Asshats in daily life.
Tensions and tensions.
Writing purely objectively about nature is a non-starter. There has to be something personal, some emotional connection, for the reader to latch onto -- something to hook an interpretation onto. But if it's too personal, then the work isn't universal enough: it collapses into a string of personal symbols without exegesis, or is just a confessional journal made public -- at which point the subject isn't nature but the writer. This is very different stuff I'm used to writing, narrative poetry and short lyrics from a persona. There's similarities to crafting an online persona, a subset me that sequesters some topics -- but it's slantways from that. A different slice of self, one that responds openly but suppresses as much ego as possible.
When the alarm beeps,I can't tell whether this tension between private and universal is productive or merely neutral. I don't *think* it's an obstructing tension. Or even tensegrity. But a balancing act, yes. One that stretches the writing muscles.
the pine outside the window
is bathed in copper
light from the just-risen sun.
... rising so late? ... already?
And, of course, each poem has to have its own tension, to make them go.
Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.
---L.