I loved the last ekphrastic challenge and can't wait to see what you all come up with for the next one! Thank you, Melanie, for inviting us to practice something that seems to come so naturally to you.
I’ve had it on my mind to respond to this since I enjoyed the last one, but I admit I’ve been struggling. My artistic inspiration is quite random and sporadic by nature (and depends a lot on my mental health), but on further reflection I think the concrete presence of a human subject in the painting makes the task a lot more daunting for me! I’m still figuring out why…
Whether or not I manage a poem for this one, it’s still a helpful realisation for me to grasp. But if you have any quick pointers to aid me in my predicament I would appreciate them!
I was just talking about this on Abigail's post. I usually approach these ekphrastic challenges as writing exercises. I start with writing a close description of the painting, just noticing details, and trying to record it as if I were describing it to someone who can't see it. I don't usually start by trying to write a poem. Instead, I discover the poem at some point in the process of describing the painting.
If I've written a description and nothing seems to be gelling, then I might move on to thinking more abstractly about images, colors, forms and shapes.
For paintings with people in them I might think about who the person is and what they are doing and write about that. And I might try to think about what might be outside of the frame. What was happening before? What is happening elsewhere? What will be happening in the future? I love the moments in Abigail's poem where she imagines the girls is making something she will give to her grandmother and thinking about the girl's siblings coming home from school.
In Margaret's poem she found a different point of view: she put herself into the consciousness of the picture of Mary on the wall.
But I wonder if you could see her from the point of view of the painter. Or her mother sitting just out of sight.
But you can also ignore the person in the painting and imagine yourself in the picture. Or imagine the space when they've left.
In the end it helps me to approach these as writing exercises. Even if a poem doesn't emerge, I'll have spent time with a painting, trying to live in someone else's imaginary space. I will have improved my ability to pay attention to detail and composition. I will have practiced my writing skills. And who knows I might find that coming back to my descriptive piece months or years later I will finally find the poem that was hiding there all along, but that needed some other piece in order to become. Some poems require patience and biding your time. Sometimes they come on their own timeline and not at my bidding.
Thank you for the advice! Life feels quite busy (and sometimes heavy) right now, but I hope I will be able to set aside some time to focus on writing soon.
I don't think this is a remarkable effort, but I have been fascinated with dimeter lately and had to play with it, at least. Such a very beautiful painting -- the concentration on small labors -- how that beatifies. {note: I went back and looked at this this evening, and decided it could be tweaked a bit.}
I loved the last ekphrastic challenge and can't wait to see what you all come up with for the next one! Thank you, Melanie, for inviting us to practice something that seems to come so naturally to you.
So excited to have you on board for another one, Abigail.
I love Anna Archer! I can’t wait to try this out…
Yay! I'm so glad you're going to join in.
I’ve had it on my mind to respond to this since I enjoyed the last one, but I admit I’ve been struggling. My artistic inspiration is quite random and sporadic by nature (and depends a lot on my mental health), but on further reflection I think the concrete presence of a human subject in the painting makes the task a lot more daunting for me! I’m still figuring out why…
Whether or not I manage a poem for this one, it’s still a helpful realisation for me to grasp. But if you have any quick pointers to aid me in my predicament I would appreciate them!
I was just talking about this on Abigail's post. I usually approach these ekphrastic challenges as writing exercises. I start with writing a close description of the painting, just noticing details, and trying to record it as if I were describing it to someone who can't see it. I don't usually start by trying to write a poem. Instead, I discover the poem at some point in the process of describing the painting.
If I've written a description and nothing seems to be gelling, then I might move on to thinking more abstractly about images, colors, forms and shapes.
For paintings with people in them I might think about who the person is and what they are doing and write about that. And I might try to think about what might be outside of the frame. What was happening before? What is happening elsewhere? What will be happening in the future? I love the moments in Abigail's poem where she imagines the girls is making something she will give to her grandmother and thinking about the girl's siblings coming home from school.
In Margaret's poem she found a different point of view: she put herself into the consciousness of the picture of Mary on the wall.
But I wonder if you could see her from the point of view of the painter. Or her mother sitting just out of sight.
But you can also ignore the person in the painting and imagine yourself in the picture. Or imagine the space when they've left.
In the end it helps me to approach these as writing exercises. Even if a poem doesn't emerge, I'll have spent time with a painting, trying to live in someone else's imaginary space. I will have improved my ability to pay attention to detail and composition. I will have practiced my writing skills. And who knows I might find that coming back to my descriptive piece months or years later I will finally find the poem that was hiding there all along, but that needed some other piece in order to become. Some poems require patience and biding your time. Sometimes they come on their own timeline and not at my bidding.
Thank you for the advice! Life feels quite busy (and sometimes heavy) right now, but I hope I will be able to set aside some time to focus on writing soon.
I don't think this is a remarkable effort, but I have been fascinated with dimeter lately and had to play with it, at least. Such a very beautiful painting -- the concentration on small labors -- how that beatifies. {note: I went back and looked at this this evening, and decided it could be tweaked a bit.}
Four walls
border my hair.
Circles
shine in a square.
Sunbeam,
needle me through.
Now I'm
golden and blue.
Nimbus:
my hands, the chain.
Focus.
Loop, slide; again.