JOURNEY. 1994. A watershed year.

1994. That’s 30 years ago now. It feels so fresh still. A huge watershed year - when I had no idea of the distance ahead. Many watersheds.

I suppose I could just give the poems. But they didn’t just happen.

A huge positive. I had just gotten my PhD, triple disciplinary, after some very rough times. The Dean of Graduate Studies was steady throughout. Wonderful. I don’t think I could have gotten my PhD without his support. And without the support of a couple of other people. I am so grateful.

I had done 2 huge pieces of intellectual work.

One. On the impact of fear - on fear as the underpinning of male dominance - and by extension, on fear as a general underpinning of systems of dominance. We’ve all had a recent major helping of overt fear porn. I’ve learned that there’s more than one underpinning - like the financial hold of the Predators, the greed and blackmail hold, etc. But that fear porn - very powerful stuff.

Two. The second big piece of intellectual work was on the impact of what is now called identity politics. My concern: what did it do to people, to become strongly involved, for at least a year, with a group in some ways disadvantaged (gender, race, sexual orientation, disability) that one was a part of. Amazing findings. Especially about a dangerous middle stage that could be exploited - a stage I had no clue about when I started the research.

So how does that relate to poetry writing?

While doing the PhD work, I thought: maybe this is it for me, doing this kind of research and writing. It feels really good and important to be doing it. Maybe I will go on to write something deep and serious and important on self-exploration and personal development.

I sure didn’t expect the flow of poetry.

Yet just months later, one word piece after another.

There were a lot of changes - major turbulence - on the emotional side. The death of a much loved dog. For months I cried whenever I looked in the mirror - the grief in my eyes brought me to grief.

And then there was ending a relationship that was not right for me, through a brief relationship that wasn’t, I believe, right for either of us - but was very important for me. It gave me the push I needed to end the relationship I knew needed ending, but did not have inner permission to end. It also brought up lots more grief. It wasn’t the right relationship. But it brought up both loving feelings and deep down grief - buried grief.

So … small wonder there was a breakthrough.

A breakthrough - not unexpected.

But “word pieces”? Quick pieces catching moments?

Still, that’s what happened. And I appreciated creative stuff enough to find paper and pencil when I’d wake up with the opening lines of a “word piece” - often meant to go with music - in my head. And I also cared enough to type up the pieces. I remember 19 pieces the first month when there was one piece after another. May 1994.

What a long road ahead.

______________________

For now, a few days ago, there were just 3 pieces just put online - after years of caring so much about the pieces, putting many online (where they got loads of views and continued to get views long after I stopped paying attention), and then after years of being away from them for many years.
https://elsas-word-story-image-idea-music-emporium.com/word-pieces.html

Now the flow continues. I can feel the pull.

Posted Feb 29, 2024