the art of :: cut [&] paste :: writer’s block techniques
Friday, November 13th, 2009Much like twin poems can help you when you’re in a slump, looking at a piece of work in a different light can help you as well. Lately I’ve taken to yet another age old teaching: the art of the cut and paste.
Basically in a cut and paste you do just that: you take your printed poem, cut each line out and tape them on a board or simple sheet of paper. Sometimes you can find sentences that don’t belong, or whole stanzas that need moved. Sometimes you lose a sentence and the poem changes entirely. I’ve found that this method works with visual arts as well. If you aren’t happy with a particular painting and don’t mind cutting it up, then try it. Dissect into a few pieces and re-arrange them. You’ll be surprised at what you find.
Sometimes the cut and paste can be simple, like so:
This is an upcoming poem entitled “Dread” that I had no clue what to do with. The language was boring, the images weren’t coming through and basically it made no sense. But I knew there was something in there. I was sick to death of staring at my computer screen. So I cut the whole thing up, re-arranged it, scrapped the entire last half and still can’t figure out exactly what it means, but now I’m a hell of a lot closer.
Sometimes the cut and paste can be a bit more colorful, like so:
Sometimes stepping away from your chosen medium can work wonders. Can’t find the right word? Paint a picture of what you want. Can’t find just the right angle to photograph that lovely boy who eats lunch in the courtyard every day? Then write a poem about how you want the light to hit his hands, face or legs. It can help and relieve your mind of the pressure to perform under its chosen duty.
Quickly, in other news, I have a new–and I mean brand new–piece up over at Troubadour 21 entitled “The Introduction of Rose – Part V.” Head over there and let me know what you think! The Billy series is one I always wanted to finish but could never produce the drive so, once again, thank you T21.











