“Foible fable, fork of Babel, cutting corners, undoing mind. As a seeker stretching forward on descriptive note, each fell and rose from impressionistic fantasy; while doling out seemingly feasible funny stories in earthly tones.”
It is still my desire to represent the mirage of the real world churned with internal references, so that, I would reach the well intentioned end – ‘literary nonsense!’ and feel arrived and belonging to the familiar.
~ Written on 7 July 2010 ESL Course | Artist Statement Class by Professor Cooley Windsor at CCA, SFO, USA
Edward Lear, an English artist, poet, illustrator, musician, and author was well-known for his lively and inspiring poems. His limericks were Victorian Nonsense Poem that has been popular then and now. I found it interesting and appreciated the fun in the poems.
I remember the day when I picked his thin collection of limericks from the school library. It was a sweltering summer in July in 1988. The convent school Sisters ran a Duck shop in the opposite corridor. It was one and a half corridor away from the library. For a few changes, you can get sweets and snacks made by them in the school kitchen.
On the way to getting a small, sweet treat that day, I observed an open door. One of the students was coming out with something in their hand. I peeped in and found two or three students picking books from the shelf and a Sister was seated on a stool near the window jotting down on a book. I understood it was a library.
My first school library was a small rectangular single room with a glass window facing the west. The afternoon sun streamed in to let the sunlight spread across the dark and cool room.
I felt an inner joy just being with the books. I experienced a joy that was boundless. I meekly entered and asked for permission to check out the single file shelf against the southern wall of the room. The Sister-in-charge told me to pick any book and come to her for the return date stamp.
I looked at the Limerick collection, back then my interest was poetry and rhyming words. I opened and read one limerick, found an instant connection. I decided that I wanted to borrow Lear’s limericks. I carried it to her and got the return date stamped and as I tried to pay her with the change in my pocket, she said the book was for free borrowing.
Since then, I wouldn’t mind being in the library for long hours. I found this room after my first term test. My scores were poor, and I wanted to think it thorough though. In those fifteen minutes spend on pick a book during the half hour lunch break and forgetting lunch, I found reassurance and good counsel. After which I was a regular visitor to the school library.
Later, during my eleventh grade, the library was a bigger room with books provided by the school trustees. It was my school’s best move ever. Became an ardent reader picking diverse authors and topics.
During this time, I started to cherish my written work and started my first anthology of poems that even today brings a smile on my face. My rhyme sequence was forced and rang like a jangle in the jungle.
I never gave up creative writing and soon there were a lot of poems in my collection. A failed attempt at publishing saw me getting interested in writing prose sans emotions. Being factual made it readable, so I thought! But the surprise was that sometimes writing can be emotional and factual.
I loved the feature writing class where I explored writing about theatre and drama reviews. For a class assignment, I had written about my first live theatre experience which was about a drama play of “In Search of My Tongue.”
But the best experience is still the stories that I wrote as an Intern. Be it syndication work or work for future issue, it gave me immense pleasure. When I work on a fairy tale or folk tale, I feel happiness deep and powerful connection.
I loved to research for a story, outlining it, starting a scratch draft, then progressing to write it. One thing that I dislike is editing it immediately. That is my Achilles heel. But giving it a day or two to rest gives me the opportunity to distance myself from the work and look at it differently.
As an Artist, I am still exploring and imploring to get an edge over editing my own work. But if I give it a year or two, then it becomes easier to edit. When freshly pressed it lacks the perspective of unobstructed vision and goal.
There is a lot more to learn and to study for the craft of writing. I am working on my editing skills which are still KG level. Yet the pleasure of completing a piece can never be replaced with any material joy.
Itinerant Storyteller 