Poetry; Rhythm; Meter
Aug. 18th, 2006 07:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rebeccmeisterPeople keep asking me how my trip to Seattle went, but it seems I cannot give a sufficient answer at the moment. It was a good trip on many different levels.
Last Saturday, my parents held a sixtieth birthday celebration; my father turned sixty in March, and my mother will turn sixty in December. They asked their guests to bring something to share, and I really, really wanted to write a poem, but the muse was not with me so I wrote a letter to them instead.
However, I did end up writing this, after rowing on Lake Washington:
The water, it undulates below the boat,
a talkative thing
that occasionally sends
tendrils lashing upward,
splashing and slapping backsides.
Jostled, we move forward,
fighting uncertainty, talking to these
talkative waves and ripples
that curl; unfurl.
This is living water. Salmon swim below, gulls arc above.
Boats grumble along, uncoiling long lines of waves.
The pointed peaks are a moody chop;
the rolling waves a slow, steady rhythm
that knocks me alive.
-
Somewhere in the last couple of weeks, I also discovered that I am an artist. This might not seem like a surprise to many of you, as I often make aesthetically pleasing things. But I have often wondered about the purpose behind the things I make, because making requires intentionality. I wondered, what am I trying to say with my art? For instance, I am definitely NOT saying, "I am making something that will make this wall seem pretty and that will be cherished for hundreds of years." I am also NOT trying to create any kind of social commentary or commentary to suit the art world (this is Neo-Classical-Contemporary-Modern-Postmodernist-Beaux-Arts art!). Instead, all of my art is self-referential and is made for myself. Reaching this understanding makes me feel a bit selfish, but it also makes me feel more confident about declaring that I am an artist because I am my own authority on my art. It also makes me happier about art that I make that I do not show to other people--it is not a futile thing, as I had worried.
Last Saturday, my parents held a sixtieth birthday celebration; my father turned sixty in March, and my mother will turn sixty in December. They asked their guests to bring something to share, and I really, really wanted to write a poem, but the muse was not with me so I wrote a letter to them instead.
However, I did end up writing this, after rowing on Lake Washington:
The water, it undulates below the boat,
a talkative thing
that occasionally sends
tendrils lashing upward,
splashing and slapping backsides.
Jostled, we move forward,
fighting uncertainty, talking to these
talkative waves and ripples
that curl; unfurl.
This is living water. Salmon swim below, gulls arc above.
Boats grumble along, uncoiling long lines of waves.
The pointed peaks are a moody chop;
the rolling waves a slow, steady rhythm
that knocks me alive.
-
Somewhere in the last couple of weeks, I also discovered that I am an artist. This might not seem like a surprise to many of you, as I often make aesthetically pleasing things. But I have often wondered about the purpose behind the things I make, because making requires intentionality. I wondered, what am I trying to say with my art? For instance, I am definitely NOT saying, "I am making something that will make this wall seem pretty and that will be cherished for hundreds of years." I am also NOT trying to create any kind of social commentary or commentary to suit the art world (this is Neo-Classical-Contemporary-Modern-Postmodernist-Beaux-Arts art!). Instead, all of my art is self-referential and is made for myself. Reaching this understanding makes me feel a bit selfish, but it also makes me feel more confident about declaring that I am an artist because I am my own authority on my art. It also makes me happier about art that I make that I do not show to other people--it is not a futile thing, as I had worried.
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Date: 2006-08-19 05:46 am (UTC)