A day for the front porch: A reflection
Art, emergence, and honesty
Spoken rendition of “A day for the front porch”.
Inspiration
A day for the front porch is an example of how art begins with an idea in mind but often has a mind of its own, emerging differently as the process unfolds from what the artist intended. The idea for this poem was to build a story of a front porch conversation between two partners, with nature depicting the inner world throughout the dialogue. Further, the dialogue was meant to be a juxtaposition of one partner who is open and vulnerable, with the other partner who is unable or unwilling to reciprocate with their own vulnerability, showcasing the inevitable pain that recipe brings for both people. I started out in this direction, but the story of vulnerability did not come along for the ride. Instead, what appeared was a dialogue between partners who experience the world differently, one who appears to be tuned to the world of the five senses, and the other who sees the world through a more expansive lens. Then a third living and breathing entity appeared that is seperate from and greater than the individuals, the relationship between the partners, one that can be experienced in the space between the stanzas though it’s not stated in words.
Structure
I initially wrote this poem in a typical poetic structure with multiple verses aligned on the left margin, the way the body of the original post appears. When the writing was complete, I decided to play with the format with the purpose of providing a visual of what fills the space between the two individuals in the poem. This is what initially emerged.
There are pieces of that version that I really love, such as the separate poem the center creates as you read from top to bottom of that column. However, I landed on the version I published in the “A poem” post with the alternating left-right verse structure and the open area in between for a few reasons. First, I felt it best represents the third entity (the space between two people) that varies tremendously from relationship to relationship and time to time. Second, the version I published paints a picture of puzzle pieces that fit together if the columns are merged in your mind, but it is certainly not a perfect fit in the way we want a puzzle to fit together easily. Instead, it’s real-life people that make sense together in a conventional way at moments, and at other times, and often many times, kind of fit together if you close one eye and squint with the page tilted to the left and the light angled just so.
Honesty
As I reflect back on this writing from March of this year, the question I am left with is if I avoided going where my original intent was out of fear of what I may have to admit to myself about my own role in my own partner relationship. I do believe the creative process happens when we take continual steps forward and let work emerge and change, but my gut tells me there was more of an avoidance tactic going on unconsciously. I suppose the answer is somewhere in between.
So, the poem about the pain of not being vulnerable with those you love will have to come a different day.
May you be vulnerable with yourself and meet that person with love this day.
Brian
If you missed the “A Poem” post of A day for the front porch, or want to revisit the visual expressed in the reflection, you can view it here!
