 |
 |
Cézanne had a real problem in finishing his paintings. As a result, his oeuvre is littered with unfinished paintings, abandoned, with areas of the canvas unpainted. He agonised endlessly over his non finito. Picasso, when formulating Cubism, decided to turn this on its head and made the *viewer* part of the process. Roger On Thu, Mar 27, 2008 at 1:45 PM, Nathan Hondros <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > I've been thinking about that quote also and wondering whether abandonment > is just a form of finishing. As like the (mostly) short poems you describe. > Several come to mind, some by imagists who I was obsessed with some time ago > - very difficult to see how they might be improved without compromising > their intentions, but that's just me. > So the poet drives the poem to the point where it is satisfactory, or in my > case the best I can do, then moves on. It is finished and abandoned all at > once. > > > On Thu, Mar 27, 2008 at 6:44 PM, David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask]> > wrote: > > > > > Thinking more about this, Nathan, I would suggest that, although one > > understands the feeling behind the quote, there possibly are some poems, > > probably all quite short ones, which are, for want of a better word, > > 'finished' because one could not change any element of them without > > spoiling > > their effect. > > > > On 27/03/2008, Nathan Hondros <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > > > > > I might be wrong and can't find a reference now but it think it was > > Auden > > > who said poems aren't finished, just abandoned. > > > > > > On Thu, Mar 27, 2008 at 11:06 AM, Halvard Johnson <[log in to unmask] > > > > > > wrote: > > > > > > > > > > Hmm, I've always thought anything one writes to > > > > be a draft--somewhere between and including the first > > > > draft and the final one. (To the extent that anything is final, > > > > of course.) > > > > > > > > But then sometimes a cold beer is a draft too. > > > > > > > > Hal > > > > > > > > "We are the zanies of sorrow." > > > > --Oscar Wilde > > > > > > > > Halvard Johnson > > > > ================ > > > > [log in to unmask] > > > > http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard/index.html > > > > http://entropyandme.blogspot.com > > > > http://imageswithoutwords.blogspot.com > > > > http://www.hamiltonstone.org > > > > http://home.earthlink.net/~halvard/vidalocabooks.html > > > > > > > > > > > > On Mar 26, 2008, at 10:25 AM, David Bircumshaw wrote: > > > > > > > > > Hi Martin > > > > > > > > > > well I wrote it yesterday so I think it qualifies as a draft. > > > > > > > > > > I'm not wild about the first line, it could get absorbed into an > > > > > eventual > > > > > (final) title. Perhaps. I do sometimes write "social historical" > > > > > poetry but > > > > > it's not easy to incorporate the necessity of facts within the > > > > > requirements > > > > > of poetry. Such facts tend to be lumpy and arrhythmical. Like > > > > > handling great > > > > > globs of wet sticky clay. > > > > > > > > > > best > > > > > > > > > > Dave > > > > > > > > > > On 26/03/2008, Martin Dolan <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > > > >> > > > > >> Hi Dave > > > > >> > > > > >> Not the sort of thing idea, but if this is a draft, it's a good > > one. > > > > >> > > > > >> I like the way you contrast the specificity of the 1848 events with > > > > >> the > > > > >> vagueness/fadedness of the link to you. The interplay of images > > > > >> (such as > > > > >> between the fuse of the Manifesto and the firedamp) works well for > > me > > > > >> (had to check up on Kossuth, though). > > > > >> > > > > >> I'm not sure about the first line - even if it's necessary in > > > > >> light of > > > > >> the title. Also not sure about co-patrilineal: trying to compress > > to > > > > >> much into the line, maybe? > > > > >> > > > > >> If you've got more like these, I'd like to see them. > > > > >> > > > > >> Regards > > > > >> > > > > >> > > > > >> Martin > > > > >> > > > > >>> Circum circa > > > > >>> > > > > >>> Circa a European Year of Revolutions, > > > > >>> of Kossuth and Cavour and Louis Napoleon's Eighteenth Brumaire, > > > > >>> when Chartists massed, faintly tinted in life colours, > > > > >>> in the first known crowd photograph > > > > >>> and a grim economist fused a hissing manifesto, > > > > >>> one man found everything to lose, > > > > >>> one man preserved > > > > >>> > > > > >>> by the Heanor and District Historical Society, > > > > >>> one man who might have been > > > > >>> co-patrilineal > > > > >>> > > > > >>> to this one, scribbling here, a bone trace of age unstated, > > > > >>> Joseph of my surname, asphyxiated (circa) > > > > >>> 1848 at a firedamp lit hard seam at Loscoe pit. > > > > >>> > > > > >>> > > > > >> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > -- > > > > > David Bircumshaw > > > > > Website and A Chide's Alphabet > > > > > http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/ > > > > > The Animal Subsides > > http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html > > > > > Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.co.uk > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > -- > > David Bircumshaw > > Website and A Chide's Alphabet > > http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/ > > The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html > > Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.co.uk > > > -- My Stuff: http://www.badstep.net/ "She went out with her paint box, paints the chapel blue She went out with her matches, torched the car-wash too" The Go-Betweens