My Latest News and Offerings

Hello there! I hope 2021 has been good to you so far. It’s winter time in my part of the world. To respect that, I am allowing myself a season of rest. That doesn’t mean doing nothing! But it does acknowledge the natural rhythm of the seasons. Winter is a time when energy levels are naturally a little lower, and hibernation is the theme. The winter season also reminds me of the value of rest time in the creative process.

Issues With the Freshly Written

You may remember that last year I wrote several pandemic poems. (Maybe one or more of them struck a chord with you. Maybe they help you express what you might be feeling during the isolation. I hope so.) I had the opportunity to look again at these poems in November, when The Ontario Poetry Society held a Pandemic Poetry Contest. Well, I learned anew the importance of letting something newly-created rest for awhile before proceeding.

One poem in particular stood out. I had struggled with the ending of “Reframing the View” when I first wrote it. I wanted to lead the reader to a conclusion, but not dictate that conclusion, allowing each person to look at the accompanying photo and decide for themselves what they saw. This is always a challenge for a writer. You want to respect the reader’s intelligence by not spelling everything out and giving her a figurative hit-over-the-head. Yet readers do appreciate being led towards the writer’s intent and/or what they might conclude.

My writers’ group members (the insightful Lynn and Jen) told me the poem did not lead the reader quite far enough. Neither of them were entirely sure what they “got” from looking at the photo after reading the poem. When I looked again at the poem with several months’ distance to sharpen my view, I saw they were absolutely right as usual! And more to the point, I knew what I needed to write in order to fix the problem, which I couldn’t see when the poem was freshly written.

Why Artists “Let it Rest”

This is something that seasoned writers know well: to put something aside for a period of time, especially if it’s not working. That rest period will sharpen the general sense of unease and expose the specific flaws. More importantly, that time away will often result in the writer realizing what it will take to create a much finer piece… and by that I mean one that readers can respond to more strongly. And that connection is what every artist is striving for.

“Reframing the View” now leads the reader more directly. It also has a more structured “poetic turn” at the end. This is a technical term that poet Kim Addonicio describes as: “picks the reader up in one place and drops them off somewhere else.”

I’d love to hear what you think. Do you have a preference for one version over the other? Do you like poetic turns as much as I do? Were you surprised to learn about the value of rest time in the creative process?

By the way, “Reframing the View” (the words without the photo) was awarded an Honourable Mention in the Pandemic Poetry Contest and will be published in an upcoming anthology. Further encouragement for me to remember the importance of rest!

May this season’s slower pace help refresh you.

Lee Ann

Artistic imitation is something that many creatives have recognized is an important aspect of the creative process. Steve Jobs, for example, was apparently fond of saying,

Good artists copy; great artists steal.

This is a quote he attributed to Picasso. Actually, an English journalist named W.H. Davenport Adams said it much better in an 1892 article in “The Gentleman’s Magazine.” He was talking about the work of Alfred Lord Tennyson when he wrote:

Great poets imitate and improve, whereas small ones steal and spoil.

I had the opportunity to practice artistic imitation during National Poetry Month this past April. In a workshop led by poet and writing coach Sage Cohen, participants wrote a poem a day for 30 days. One of the exercises she had us do was to write a poem inspired by another poet, in this case Mary Oliver’s “The Summer Day.” The lesson had to do with engaging the reader directly, as Oliver does with a question at the end of her poem. It also had to do with writing description at a fine, even micro-level of detail, something Oliver mastered in her career.

Coincidentally, a dear friend had just sent me a birthday greeting in the form of time lapse photography that showed the opening of different types of flowers. I absolutely love time lapse photography of flowers! Watching the video over and over, I delighted in the life of blossoms as we can never experience it with the naked eye.

So I got the idea to use that time lapse for the workshop exercise: I would describe the opening of a peony, in fine detail. And I would – what? Steal? Imitate? Improve? – Oliver’s question to the reader at the end of the poem, because I absolutely loved that question.

If I could summarize the process, this is how I’d describe creating my poem, “The Peony”:

• Something caught my attention, in this case the time-lapse photography of opening blooms. For sheer enjoyment, I spent some time with it, took it in.
• Paying closer attention to the images, I paused the video to observe the details of the flowers opening. I started jotting down some descriptive words.
• I studied Mary Oliver’s poem for word choices, ideas she introduces, the pace of the poem. This was more a process of absorption rather than a technical analysis. I got a “feel” for her poem, since I’d decided to use it as a launching point for mine.
• I drafted my poem (several times!) and found a suitable photo from my garden collection, which helped in the refinement of the words.

This list implies that creating is a linear process, which it is not! It’s more like a spiral, twisting around itself many times.

Once the poem was drafted, one of the members of my writer’s group pointed out to me that my question to the reader is not an exact copy of Oliver’s question. I had not realized that until she mentioned it! So also in the process of creating, it seems that some kind of alchemy re-molded Oliver’s words into my question, formed my way.

Maybe ‘alchemy’ is a better word than ‘imitation’ for what really happens. An artist absorbs what she thinks is fabulous from another artist, then molds something new in her own way.

What do you think about this? Is there really “nothing new under the sun”? Is this “artistic imitation” a legitimate aspect of the creative process, or thinly-disguised thievery? Here again are the two poems; if you like you can compare the two and see how one inspired the other. “The Summer Day” by Mary Oliver. My poem, “The Peony.”

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts. I hope you found something new to think about, through this latest peek “behind the scenes” into the creative process!

Lee Ann