In the past couple of weeks, I've begun a series of poems on Facebook, creatively titled "Facebook Poems." The idea is that I post a prompt such as "what tattoo would you get and why" or "respond to the word reminder." Throughout the next 24 hours, Facebook friends post their immediate responses, whatever comes into their heads first. At the end of that period, I take the posts and try to pull ideas or phrases from as many of them as possible, link them together, and I turn them into a poem. This process has been as fun as it has been enlightening. While writers always get their ideas from their experiences in the world and their interactions with other people, the end results are usually filtered only through the writer. In other words, the gathering together of ideas is usually not a public process.
By its nature, writing is a solitary art. I have at least one hundred poems on pages that may only ever be read by me. If a poet expects to publish in a journal, he or she must not publish his or her poems in any way because no journal will accept a poem that has already been published. I have long lamented this, since, as a painter, I can post pictures of my art all day long and still have the work accepted into shows. Posting on Facebook give an artist free publicity and, on many occasions, revenue. While I realize that poetry does not sell like paintings, it is disheartening that we feel we cannot share our work on Facebook, get our names and our writing abilities "out there," for fear of never publishing. Poetry is meant to be read, heard, taken in and rolled around, and shared. It is not meant to sit in a drawer or on a flash drive.
Writing these poems, there are five drafts now, has been a wonderful, freeing experience for me. I am getting out of my head and writing about subjects I would have never thought about in just that way without the Facebook friends who posted their thoughts. Yesterday, I wrote a poem based on the prompt "respond to abandoned places" called "Concept of Time" (any suggestions for a better title?) that examines the idea that every moment in time exists at every other moment in time. I've tried to write about this idea before, but I have been largely unsuccessful. I like the draft I got, and I like it because Kathleen said who she was yesterday was abandoned, Brent wrote a fascinating bit about walking on the remains of a flooded town near the Hudson (he even sent a map!), and Joe mentioned cities he himself had abandoned. I love the fact that I feel connected to these poems because of the people who contributed their thoughts and experiences, and I love that I am sharing my poetry with them.
Check out the Facebook poems, and better yet, take the posts 24 hours later and write your own! Wouldn't it be cool to read what we all come up with? Poem, flash fiction, photo; whatever your medium, I'd love to see it happen. Perhaps some publisher somewhere will accept my Facebook poems someday, but until then, I am enjoying my writing, and I am enjoying the community we create, poem by poem.
Examines painting, writing, mommying, teaching, yard sale-ing, recycling, many other ings, and type 1 diabetes.
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Front Porch Art Show
I spent last weekend with some girlfriends of mine in Norfolk, Virginia. Now this is a cool town. We watched the Admirals win a hockey game (tickets only $20!), ate fantastic tapas at Bodega on Granby Street ("Little Plates, Big Drinks!") and seafood at AW Shucks, and went to an art "show" in the Ghent district near the Virginia Zoo. This "show" is one of the Best Ideas Ever.
For you, my fellow artists and crafters out there, think about this scenario: you don't have to pay an entrance fee, pack up, drive, set up your booth, display your wares, and hope to your favorite deity that someone buys something. You are selling on your front porch. The entire neighborhood - at least ten blocks - is selling art and crafts on their front porches. Now, I'm not so naive as to believe that this would work everywhere. My front porch might as well be on Europa. But this show was just so...nice.
There were people walking around with their dogs and their kids and their friends, looking at (and buying!) art, and the artists appeared, overall, to be relaxed and happy with their front porch experiences. Most were having a glass or two and offering one to whomever happened by. My good friend Kelly gifted me with this print by artist Jennifer C Hilliard:
Such an amazing talent. I have linked her work to this blog. Check it out!
I'll close by paraphrasing a recent Facebook post by my friend Jennifer Thielen: If you really want to occupy Wall Street, buy from your local merchants, artists, artisans, and farmers. As romantic as the idea of the starving artist is, well, ya know, tapas at Bodega are really nice, too. : )
For you, my fellow artists and crafters out there, think about this scenario: you don't have to pay an entrance fee, pack up, drive, set up your booth, display your wares, and hope to your favorite deity that someone buys something. You are selling on your front porch. The entire neighborhood - at least ten blocks - is selling art and crafts on their front porches. Now, I'm not so naive as to believe that this would work everywhere. My front porch might as well be on Europa. But this show was just so...nice.
There were people walking around with their dogs and their kids and their friends, looking at (and buying!) art, and the artists appeared, overall, to be relaxed and happy with their front porch experiences. Most were having a glass or two and offering one to whomever happened by. My good friend Kelly gifted me with this print by artist Jennifer C Hilliard:
Such an amazing talent. I have linked her work to this blog. Check it out!
I'll close by paraphrasing a recent Facebook post by my friend Jennifer Thielen: If you really want to occupy Wall Street, buy from your local merchants, artists, artisans, and farmers. As romantic as the idea of the starving artist is, well, ya know, tapas at Bodega are really nice, too. : )
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