The Artist's Way ~ Linda Hogan & Other Poets

Linda, as always, was great. She speaks from a deep place. The title of her talk was A Spiritual History of the Living World. I took almost no notes, but Niki did, and perhaps she will post from them at some point; if she does, I will link to it. Also, public access television recorded it, so I will post when it airs.

Linda spoke of language, and how it influences the way we see, and live in, the world. She reminds us that the whole land has stories, and they are not all told in English.

She read some poems, some I know, and some new ones -- a new book of poetry, and a new novel, will be out soon.

She said: We are all a part of this endlessly creative universe.

She spoke of spiritual ecology. She says that poetry is helping us get there -- to a new way of being in and with the world.

This reminded me that the work I do -- the work I try to do -- is important.

And yes, I have noticed the synchronicity with what we are doing in this Artist's Way group.

The questions after her hour plus presentation went on for another hour -- lots of earnest, mostly young people. Just an aside: many of those young people stepped right out of the late 60's/ early 70's -- witness the photo below. We saw tie-dye t-shirts and macrame necklaces. If not for the high-tech room and the plastic water bottles, we could have been back in our own college years.

Later, at dinner, as I tried to evade questions about what I do, Linda said: She's a poet. She's a really good poet.

Which brings me back around to that spot on the spiral where I keep bumping up against myself. I claimed my domain (sbpoet) almost defiantly. Yes, I am too a poet. As if someone were saying otherwise. Well, someone probably is, but perhaps not anyone whose opinion weighs heavily with me.

I have lots of ways to discount the support I get, of course. They are just being nice; it's just that they like me (and why do they like me?); they mean I'm good for an amateur; and so on. I can't discount the expertise of those who encourage me -- they are writers I admire. So why am I so . . . what am I, exactly? Resistant? Frightened? What?

I am going to record here (this feels like stepping off a cliff) for my own sake what John Haines said about my early poems. The poets out there will have heard that John Haines is not known for making nice. And he didn't know me, so had no reason to be kind. He said: Send these out. This work is better than most of what I see published these days. Every one is different.

Why does this keep haunting me? I know perfectly well that this kind of affirmation really can only come from within; and I know that none of us (poets) will live long enough to be certain of the value -- or lack of it -- of our work.

I don't feel particularly defensive any more about rarely sending things out; I probably get more eyes on my poems online than I would if I had books out there. But I could put together a chapbook, and self-publish. Partly, of course, energy is a problem -- often, just posting uses all of it that I have. But I could begin; I could do it a bit at a time.

And I don't like rejection; I don't like competition. In fact, I've avoided competition in most areas all of my life. Unless it was required by my job, in which case I was a lion.

I'm not being clear, I know. That's because I'm not clear. I just know that it keeps coming up for me, again and again. That when Linda said I was a poet -- a good poet -- I nearly wept in public.

Speaking of in public, I was. In public, I mean. I sat for Linda's presentation with only minor discomfort, and then went to dinner -- six hours altogether! Six hours of good thinking and good company and good talk. And good food. I had several days to prepare, by doing nothing. Which I did. So I was tired yesterday, but not nearly as tired as I expected; and today I was fine until I tried to move.

But that could just as easily be our viciously cold weather as anything else. Really cold. Wind that sneaks in when you're not looking.

Well, I'm still confused; I had hoped that writing about this might clarify it for me. More later. Stay warm.

Comments

[kat]

ooo, great post. i could relate to your bits on just the energy it takes to post is what's there, about being exhausted in public, that wanting to avoid rejection/competition.

i keep looking around and wondering if i'm wasting my time, not making the most of my life. i drove past a cemetary today and thought about this, how short life is and how i want to make the most of mine. what's holding me back?

[Ken]

She's right, you know, you are a good poet.

And, that is the magic you bring into our lives.

Touching the magic is very important work!

Keep it up!

[Cathy]

You're not confuse you made perfect sense.
Because I go through that everyday with my poems. It's hard especially when you feel alone with your work.

Sometime I too doubt if I'm a poet. I look at my stats for my blog and wonder why I even bother with that.But I just keep on writing. Now and then, I do amazed somebody with my poems.

[Dave]

I feel the same way about sending stuff out, and share your belief that blogging more than compensates. A much more ambitious poet friend of mine, who reads my blog, told me the other week that he thought i reached far more people than he does with all his poems in the big literary magazines (Mid-American Review, Georgia Review, etc.). It may be true. And of course your readership is significantly larger than mine. But more to the point: we're reaching people who would never read the literary magazines, and who may not even consider themselves poets or writers - i.e., "real people."

You're right, Haines does have a reputation for dourness! But I do love his work, so praise from him is definitely nothing to sniff at.

Somehow, none of the mediocre poets ever seem to wrestle with doubts about the value of their work...

[john]

Can you read my poems and give me judgment.
I'm tyring to write a book..Maybe it's a bad idea..tell me what you think..My page is--peasantpantry.blogspot.com........THANKS

[SB]

Thank you, my friends, for your encouragement. And Cathy, you know I read your poems. I read them because they move me, almost always.

I think John Haines is a great poet. My fantasy is that he writes something down, then spends several years taking out unneccessary words, until only the essential remains. I want to write like that.

Of course, I don't know that he's ever had a review quite as good as the one you gave me, Dave. Heh.

& john @ peasantpantry, I will visit your blog, but am responding here first to say: I'm sorry, but I don't do this. And I don't think anyone can tell you that writing "is a bad idea" -- you do what you must. You do what you can. What speaks to me may not speak to others; what speaks to others may not speak to me.