Trying Too Hard

I had a realization about art that I want to share. This pertains to my poetry, but I believe it applies to other forms of art and its expression. I found myself creating works that were OK, technically competent, but not feeling “right”. Had I hit a wall? What was going on? The answer came: I was trying too hard. It seemed odd that I was trying too hard, but closer examination revealed the underlying truth.

I got to the place after I had figured out some important aspects of poetry. Another way to say that is that I figured out the tools of poetry. All of them? Hardly, but a number of important ones perhaps. I sought to employ those tools. In doing so I became mechanistic, seeing poetry through the tools used instead of the creation truly desired. I worked the tools, created competent works, and then stood back and wondered what had happened. Now I know, strongly suspect, that the resulting works were a product of over worked tools. I was trying too hard. I had the embraced the thought “if I do this and this than the result will be that”. The “that” I was looking for was good poetry.

What is good poetry? What is good art? Why did my mechanistic use of tools not satisfy the metric of good poetry? Good questions! I believe the answer lays in the nature of creativity and how it can manifest. There is also an important component of viewing creativity and seeing the source as an expression of the result. Heart felt works, those that tap a common set of sentiments, have a creativity that forgives mechanistic aspects. A really creative work, one that speaks to others, will have flaws. These are overcome by the, dare I say it, spiritual connection felt by the viewer. Good poetry transcends form and speaks directly to the mind and emotions.

Where do this put me? What lesson can I learn and share with others? The easy answer is that tools have a purpose. They align the art with standards and oil the path to “good” works. Tools will take you only so far. Overly working a piece of art with tools will create something that is good, but not great. The viewer of the art instinctively sees that something is not great. The viewer can sense when something is “off”. The wine has a good bouquet and the taste begins well, but the after taste is mechanical and flat. Tools will create art, but they cannot be artistic.

Does this mean tools should be discarded? Absolutely not. The proper use of tools is incredibly important if artistic works are to rise above the average norm. There are so many passionate artists out there. The correct and sophisticated use of tools is a key to being recognized. This is where the tool's purpose stops. The artist's creative connection to the piece takes it from there. The dialogue with the viewer begins after the form is dealt with. The tools decide help determine where the viewer will begin their engagement, but the artist's vision determines where the engagement will end.

Poem - I Awoke

I wrote the poem “I Awoke” as a free form exercise. As usual, there is a twist to the poem. I swear I channel M. Night Shyamalan. Anyway, after finishing the poem I looked for a quote that spoke to what others said about dreaming. I found that Carl Jung said the following about Mandalas:

"The 'squaring of the circle' is one of the many archetypal motifs which form the basic patterns of our dreams and fantasies. But it is distinguished by the fact that it is one of the most important of them from the functional point of view. Indeed, it could even be called the archetype of wholeness."

Go Jung and your archetypes! It seems that I tapped right into his stream of thought with the last line of the poem. Now, what can I do with this realization?


I Awoke
Poem for Day 067 – 20141129

I awoke in a world
full of interesting people.
I knew none of them
but I was completely at ease.
I was not my own age
because I defined by action instead.
Pain was not a companion.
People acted with civility.

Would I trade this world
for the dream that haunts me so?
My dream is of pain
of my person and society.
My dream is of discourse.
Unremorseful hatred rules.
I am glad that I could awake
and escape that nightmare.

Now I walk around naked,
my clothes vanished in a blink.
My vehicles change shape
as I drive from the back seat.
I visit places long gone
and other places only existing
in my blessed awakened state.
This is the world I awoke in.

Maybe I'll go back
to that dream world later.
Maybe I'll return to
that sleeping nightmare.
For now I will live
in the world awakened.
For now I will live
in a place that completes me.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.