The not quite poetic other world
I collect ideas and feelings. I document them to keep them safe and alive. The best ones are the ones that seem part of a bigger picture and are accompanied by the urge to express. The only problem is the ideas come in fragments and the feelings without words.
The hope is they come together as something whole and tangible, that somehow my brain connects the ideas and feelings and something expressible emerges. However, sometimes months or years pass before the pieces come together, so in my collection they wait.
One piece in my collection is the ‘poetic other world’. These three words, experienced as a fragment or glimpse, a not quite idea, is felt in my inner space. I want to create with it but it’s not quite. It’s accompanied by an urge to express, but needs more before its expressible.
It may be a only a glimpse but I know where to collect more glimpses. I seek and gather, reading the poetry in pictures, collecting chunks of prose, listening for the visual in music, all in an effort return to that not quite, poetic other world. The gathering places create a magical interior space. It feels elusive, intangible, abstract and I can’t get enough of it.
I go out into the world and feel the not quite again. I am in a garden in the Bronx. The not quite poetic other world is here in New York Botanical’s crystal palace. I feel it in Hampton Court’s infinite landscape. I feel it as vast and lovely in these grand gardens as I do in a tiny backyard garden in Brooklyn.
But I can never put my finger on exactly what it is–the not quite feeling. I try to explain it, put it in a painting as a concrete thing, but it just floats and floats.
There is a line from Octavio Paz in my collection, “…in a land good for dreaming…” When I read this line I see the land in my mind and more importantly, I feel it. That piece of poetic line describes perfectly the poetic other world both physically and visceral for me. It evokes the mystery in one tiny fragment.
This poetic other world, this not quite drives me to make sketches of fictional wilderness, paintings in gardens, write prose that accompanies more art. I want this intangible to become tangible–explained and not left in the ethers. If I turn it inside out I can see the idea and feeling is not only buried deep within but stretches and exists across galaxies in gardens in other worlds.
I keep collecting, hoping for the tangible expression to emerge to become concrete and explainable as an idea. I am not satisfied with just letting it stay as not quite. The importance of knowing the not quite poetic other world as an expressible idea is the importance of answer and connection, the key to unlock the deepest parts of my authentic self and quite possibly all of creation. In short the answer to everything.