The Process in Poetry
Writers write from experience, which is what makes The Wild Morning so great. I’ve been writing all my life, for three reasons:
Writers live twice (how selfish and all-consuming of me, I know).
Storytelling shares relatable value.
Writing enhances search for meaning and I adore that.
The Wild Morning supports every single of these elements for me. I get to prance through an experience not once, but twice. I can share someone’s story that matters to them and those they love. I stumbleupon life lessons and inspiration all the way through.
I tried writing poems about women before we met them and it wasn’t working. I wrote about stage fright and grass. Being completely pin-sized in a forest. I wrote about oysters and how they turned dirt from the ocean into pearls with their organs. But everything I wrote felt like mine and mine only. That’s okay. That’s great writing. But I wanted my writing to shatter hearts in half and be for others, too.
After our first photo shoot, with Alexandria, I went crazy. It was hot, July maybe, and I remember sweating on a coffee shop patio going to town. I found meaning everywhere, in dandelion stems and cracks in the sidewalk. It was like value and strife exploded all over my skin and the road. To gain perspective, I wrote down the first 10 things that came to mind about her:
Fur named ‘Valencia’
Bird scissors - german
Straw in her coffee
Card, I love you, typed notes
Vintage tin cigarette case
White vases (what are they called)
Chuck Klosterman books
And then I wrote like hell.
I wrote about everything I had seen and felt. I turned objects into emotions and colors into feelings. I found peace in materials and sounds. I found determinism in textures and tattoos. Suddenly, everything around me meant something and everything.
That’s why I do this. That’s why I write. And that’s why The Wild Morning is powerful to me. The process makes me see.