Variations of a Dream

I assembled this random poem earlier this week and was very pleased with the combination of word scraps. However, I found it a more difficult proposition when it came to creating the image. There were plenty of magical phrases to inspire – purple words, roses and violets, magic carpets, dream weavers – but it was difficult to encapsulate the dreamy feeling of the poem visually without distracting from the actual word collage.

Fairly early on I decided to use a page from an antique copy of The Arabian Nights that I have. The texture created by the foxed tissue insert was interesting, but I still didn’t quite like it.

Who but Scheherezade was the greatest dream weaver of all?

Then I had a eureka moment. Of course! Who but Scheherezade was the greatest dream weaver of all? The stories she told the Sultan every night caused him to fall in love with her – and, incidentally, saved her head from the chopping block. (Let’s not deconstruct this scenario too much or the illusion of romance will be quite evaporated.)

I removed the veil (so to speak) and revealed the etching in all its glory. It is the only illustration in the book, and it is singularly apt to illustrate my poem. I like the cultural weight this iconic book brings to my poem – they tie so well together, a bit like the vintage Mills & Boon page coupled with my poem on brides in the previous story.

Scroll down to see the other variations.

Version 1: the image was actually advertising bathroom fittings! I had to tear around a bathroom cabinet. Just not romantic enough.Version 2: the first incarnation of the page from The Arabian Nights – I wanted to show some of the image, but it didn't quite fit with the cut paper words – the flow was interruptedVersion 3: Perhaps a vintage postcard of roses and violets combined with my handwriting? Too messy.Version 4: Or a simple oil pastel background with my handwriting etched into it? Too simple and unsatisfying, I felt.

A Word Jigsaw

I was tickled to combine a poem about brides with a US Vogue fashion image and the frontispiece from a 1930s Mills & Boon romance novel.

I’ve been busy lately writing random poems – if writing is the correct word. It’s been more like assembling word jigsaws: my table is strewn with thousands of snippets and phrases that tumble together into little poems.

When I first started creating these poems, I would close my eyes and take whatever words came out of the tin. My rule was to use every single piece in the poem. This time, for a change, I decided to be less restrictive. Sometimes I pull a random clump out of the mess, and occasionally I sift through for phrases that catch my eye, discarding those that don’t work with the overall thread. I guess you could call them somewhat random poems.

I’ve also gone back and redesigned many of my old poems with new vintage backgrounds. You can check them out in the new Random Poetry gallery.

The Secret is Out

The secret is out
three ugly hours
and so-called leisure
can be devil’s horns on the inside.
Obsessions shine bright
perfectly sultry and seductive –
everyone’s more beautiful
free.

Greetings From the Past

This card is dated 21/12/1905. I love that the birthday message was carried entirely on the front, and the sender (whose name I cannot distinguish) writes ‘Do you still collect pictorial postcards?’ all over the picture!I have finally found a pleasing background for my random poems – vintage postcards! Though postcards seem as ephemeral as the magazines I have cut words from, they have stood the test of time: many of them are over one hundred years old. The people who wrote and received them are long dead, and it seems a fitting tribute to use their greetings and remembrances as a background for poetry.

The reverse of the card above.The original ‘found poems’ I created were pasted into a book, but I discovered, many years later, that the glue I used had turned a dark yellow and utterly destroyed the paper. I scanned them all in and cleaned them up – a daunting task. (Note: Any collage artists out there – don’t use the traditional rubber cement; it is not archivally sound; a simple glue stick would be better.)

Originally I wanted to create a real collage and stick the words onto the vintage postcards; create a whole new piece of art (hardcopy as opposed to digital). But now that I have bought them and admired their poignant and faded beauty, and exclaimed over the elegant handwriting, I am loathe to deface them. They have lasted this long – when perhaps they might have been put in the trash – so I cannot bear to cover them up with words snipped out of Vogue and Elle magazines.

Here are a couple for you to admire, front and back. 

This wonderful card, posted from Uruguay in 1905, still bears traces of glitter attached to the girls’ outfits.The card (above) was addressed to Mademoiselle Amandita Ambrosani (how lovely!) in Salto. I do hope that minimal address enabled the postman to find her.

The Man Like No Other

Here is Monday’s random poetry for your reflection. It tipped out of the vintage lolly tin just like this, I swear.

My look at the girl who cried wolf.
This whole thing is over;
It just stopped
after one more magic happily ever after;
so she leaves with
the man like no other.