A lesson on imagery and restraint.
Modern poetry has turned into an excuse to dispense chunks of succinct, minimalist imagery. Most fledgling writers use imagery for the sake of imagery. These writers find problems with writing original stuff because they struggle with conjuring complete pictures of abstract concepts in their minds.
That is the biggest barrier to writing good poetry, and that is why most people can't find their true potential with it. Forget prose. Prose is even more challenging, given that people can't keep their mind hooked on chunks of text. The writer himself will have difficulty keeping to the rails if he can't keep himself tethered to the words he's writing, or if the concept starts to vanish on him. Writing in staccato bursts of tied-together imagery makes for some very immature material.
With every word I realize that the necessity for imagery is no excuse to put fuzzy ideas down on paper. If the pictures in your head are damaged, the new-born metaphor will be cowardly, amateur expressions that will turn to broken pixels and crumble dutifully for every trained eye. Bad imagery, therefore, is even worse for a infant piece than the misuse of punctuation and grammar.
Think it out, and the words will write themselves out. If you have the gift of beauty in your speech, it will play on paper. If not, tough luck, try something else that you think you have a gift for. You must have the heart of a writer, because the heart is inevitably a much better writer than the mind is. Your mind is a strait-jacket to the best words it contains. It's possibly the shyest organ we have. It thinks that other people will not understand what you are writing. That would bring us to the final lesson of the day:
Who cares?
Say that to yourself every time you finish writing something. Say it to yourself when you're writing it. Once you realize how personal and free an act writing is, you'll forget to wall your words up.
After you're done writing what your heart writes, you can run over it with your mind. After all, we wouldn't want grammatical errors in what you write. Put it away for two weeks. Read it again with your mind, and open your heart a little. If you feel, forget the critics. Who cares?
What comes from feeling must eventually translate to feeling, or its purpose is void and the intention has failed. Game over, play again.
That is the biggest barrier to writing good poetry, and that is why most people can't find their true potential with it. Forget prose. Prose is even more challenging, given that people can't keep their mind hooked on chunks of text. The writer himself will have difficulty keeping to the rails if he can't keep himself tethered to the words he's writing, or if the concept starts to vanish on him. Writing in staccato bursts of tied-together imagery makes for some very immature material.
With every word I realize that the necessity for imagery is no excuse to put fuzzy ideas down on paper. If the pictures in your head are damaged, the new-born metaphor will be cowardly, amateur expressions that will turn to broken pixels and crumble dutifully for every trained eye. Bad imagery, therefore, is even worse for a infant piece than the misuse of punctuation and grammar.
Think it out, and the words will write themselves out. If you have the gift of beauty in your speech, it will play on paper. If not, tough luck, try something else that you think you have a gift for. You must have the heart of a writer, because the heart is inevitably a much better writer than the mind is. Your mind is a strait-jacket to the best words it contains. It's possibly the shyest organ we have. It thinks that other people will not understand what you are writing. That would bring us to the final lesson of the day:
Who cares?
Say that to yourself every time you finish writing something. Say it to yourself when you're writing it. Once you realize how personal and free an act writing is, you'll forget to wall your words up.
After you're done writing what your heart writes, you can run over it with your mind. After all, we wouldn't want grammatical errors in what you write. Put it away for two weeks. Read it again with your mind, and open your heart a little. If you feel, forget the critics. Who cares?
What comes from feeling must eventually translate to feeling, or its purpose is void and the intention has failed. Game over, play again.