Today in that space between the end of BE.aGaIN and the release of Unreconciled Doors * in just two days time, I attempt to go behind the lines of a partial fragment or orphaned Ode from my output. Today’s piece is some weather from the subconscious-“Tornado”-Fragment number six of seven.
I will be honest here and honesty is dangerous.
This piece came to me fully formed in my sleep and was there when I woke up.
Alot of my work does.
I think anyone who has it this way is afraid to say it for various reasons-afraid of losing it whether a gift or a curse, afraid of the reaction maybe.Scared that there is no “work” in the work and that this will diminish? I don’t know but many artists go to extreme lengths to disguise the work of the subconscious.
The recent brilliant but tome sized “Paul Mc Cartney The Lyrics” where Macca sits down to explain his work in conversation with the brilliant poet Paul Muldoon is an example of how far artists will go to explain away inspiration. This was the genius who dreamt Yesterday, Let it Be and could concoct classics from the ether in seconds. Anyone watching the recent “Get Back” documentary would have seen this guy composing the song of the same title in a matter of a few minutes while waiting for Lennon to show up to rehearsal.!!!He was also the best bass player of the 20th century but ,a conversation for another day.
Yes the conscious mind shapes or is the “midwife” for the `”dark embryo” (T.S Eliot) of whatever is in the soul soup but let’s not pretend that, sometimes,work just appears from the universal stream. It may be unintelligible at first and that’s where craft comes in but it is the start of all art.
There is also the waking examples of inspiration where there is just a buzz in your head and you need a pen or the electricity might consume you.
I will give one more example if I may.
In Ireland (The Republic or the “South”), the roadsigns are in Irish and English.
I woke up one morning having dreamt about an Irish road sign at a cross-roads. At the time I was looking for a title for my first collection so was annoyed I was dreaming about something else entirely.
The Irish word was “Beagáin” which means small road- beag meaning small/little.Note- I have not spoken or written Irish in twenty plus years.
I could make no sense of this, so I wrote it out. B e a g a I n.
And that was that.
I changed it to BE.aGaIN so that it could be- Be, Again, Begin Again.
Many of my poems have come from nowhere and I cannot explain them fully, nor do I want to-all I know is that there is -something else -and we should listen to it, it is trying to help us.
So yes, I opened my eyes, woke up one morning and the voice in my head said “She holds a miniature tornado in the palm of her hand”.
I am not saying all this to prove I am “special” etc,far from it, but there is no causal consequence and there are no coincidences in dreams or in art.
*Unreconciled Doors is available to pre-order in Kindle format now on Amazon for just $€£ 0.99