I have so many photos and poems coming up! I have 80 more poems to edit. Additionally, I have tons of photos I want to post. On top of that, I have some paintings to post. I am going to get this all scheduled out.
Creativity has been sliding through my body like a pipe cleaner through a drain, narrow, dirty. Although I have not actually felt consistently normal, my creativity has been high as long as it is something I can do in private. I hate that I have the magazine at a stand still. I have more to publish and rejection notices as well. I am getting anxiety about posting. My mind has been absent lately. If I make a mistake on here, it doesn’t matter. If I make a mistake with someone’s story or poem, that matters.
My period of heightened introversion is good for me. I’ve been lonely, but I’ve been producing. I will be traveling soon, and I want to do a lot before then.
The last of the rain
hides under the chipped bench.
In a burrow ten feet away,
Summer and her bulimic brood.
Children stare at their faces in puddles,
faces framed by the
rainbow slick of motor oil
in the water.
What hallucinogenic heat
pushes a woman to the docks,
makes her surrender in
the family boat named
Over the years I have experimented with various ways of combining poetry with either color or image. I’ve done poems on images and Instagramed them. I’ve put interesting lines of poetry on solid blocks of color as names for those colors. I’ve tried over and over again to marry my obsession with color to my poetry.
I think I have something new to try. I’m downloading free textures online and tinting them different colors. By doing this, I am capturing not only a color I like, but ensuring there is texture to go with that color to make the image and color deeper. Then I write a poem that corresponds to that color/texture. It can correspond by mood, location, subject etc. But something about the poem has to relate to the color and image, or at the very least the color.
I’m excited about this project. Periodically I like to have something new to work on. Photo editing has always been enjoyable for me, and naturally I live for poetry. Plus, new projects are good for the mind. I know my husband has been hoping I would start something new recently. He feels it is good for me to have something I’m working on. Not anything too hard or stressful, but just something to add a little oomph to my days I guess.
Lately I have been butting up against the question of what is success for me? It is no longer grad school. It is no longer teaching. I am really getting into art, but all questions of skill level aside, the very idea of going to an art show sends me into a panic.
Yet I do want to get my writing out into the world. To this end I am considering self-publishing, which is one of the things that came up in therapy. The question for therapy was about what I would do if I felt I was good enough. Maybe self-publishing is it. I’m not saying I’m ruling out pursuing traditional publishing. But I haven’t been doing that lately and that’s not really where my heart is. I’m just not sure, since publishing a poetry book yourself is not looked well upon. But I’m not trying to make money and I’m not somebody who’s looking for admission into any school, getting any teaching job, or getting any Fellowship. What I really want is for people to read my writing and like it. Or, if it’s on the blog where people can comment on what I wrote or send me an email, people to read my writing and give me critique. Helpful criticism is always great. I just want to get my writing out in the world. That’s what I really want.
I admitted last night in the midst of depression fueled complaining to my husband that I felt like a failure, that nothing I have done has amounted to anything. Being a man, he tried to fix the problem. I appreciate this quality in him, but obviously not every issue I have can be fixed. If it can be fixed he isn’t always the one who can fix it. He questioned me and what I finally got across to him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on directly before, is that I want to be noticed. I’m isolated. Part of that is my choice. I’m about as gregarious as a spider. But part of that is simply my circumstances as a housewife. Someone better at networking than me may be able to do better than what I am doing, but I don’t know who they are or how they’re doing it.
I just want someone to read my poems. I love it when you guys read my poems. It makes me so happy. I want my art to be seen by people. Ideally I’d like to be appreciated by somebody. I’m not trying to sell it. Some of it I think looks really interesting but either isn’t of the caliber to be sold or isn’t the style that would sell. Still other things I make are things that are by nature impermanent. For instance, you could do pretty interesting things with watercolor on fabric softener. But that’s not something you’re going to be able to seal in and hang on a gallery wall somewhere. It’s really something you take a picture of while it’s fresh and then that’s what’s left of the art. And honestly that’s all I want.
What Craig thought was an expression of dissatisfaction with my life because I couldn’t articulate myself very well is in fact a sense of isolation and of being ignored. I love my life. I wake up in a nice home, spend the day with my daughter, take care of appointments and house work that needs to be done, and spend a whole lot of time reading. When times are good this means I get to enjoy a lot. When times are bad it means that I have much more time to spend at home recuperating than I would if I had made other life choices. My life is perfect for me. But the old ambitious parts of me just longs to see my name up in lights.
I’m giving this a lot of thought. What I think I want to do is just build up this blog. At the end of the day grad school is out of the question and I’m way too much of hermit to pursue much of anything out of the house. And what I really love is coming on here to post the things that I make and the things that I write. That’s what I look forward to. So maybe self-publishing is the right thing to do. If not, then blogging definitely is. And blogging is fundamentally a form of self-publishing. I have what I need. I just need to use it more freely.
In many of my photographs I have a serious issue with oversaturating the colors. I just can’t help myself. Either I up the saturation after I take the photo or I use settings or an app to make the photo highly saturated to begin with. Technically this is not what most people would consider to be good photography. Partly because over doing almost anything will mean that the photo you’ve created isn’t a good photo, and partly because more muted and softer seem to be a really big thing right now. All I yearn for is vivid, intense color.
At the end of the day I create images that I enjoy seeing. Maybe others will like them and maybe others won’t, but I can’t stand behind any form of art that I make, whether it is photography or painting or something else, unless I myself enjoy looking at it. If I don’t love it, why create it?
My obsession with color is a fundamental part of me. I used to operate a blog where I would post a square of color with a poetic name typed on it.
I think now I will do something a little different. I have been downloading free textures online, and tinting them with rich, solid color. Instead of typing a short name on each one, I will write fragments of poems (or full length poems) for each one. Each color with its corresponding poem will be given a post.
At this point I am just really enjoying tinting all these different textures. I do not know how long I will carry on with this project. Regardless of whether it lasts for one week or one year, I think that it will add to my creativity. It will also give me more pleasure in my life. Color stitches my being together.