Sunday, March 7, 2010

Cheap Skywriting


It seems to be the topic de jour.

I'm sitting here listening to my Artificial Joy Club cd Melt, with the song Skywriting on repeat.
My favourite track on the album. And it got me thinking about some of my poetry. I ended up going through some of my scrapbooks looking for a few pieces I did back when I was still with Trainwreck. My most creative time for poetry actually.
Most of which I have forgotten about. Why, well because they are all about him. Yeah, I am that cliched and pathetic. When I am in a relationship or have a crush, I communicate to the guy by making him the center of my art.

Not on purpose.

No shocker there eh? as my blog is living proof of that fact.

Also no shocker that men and women communicate differently. Take for example, I had done a drawing of Trainwreck and photographed it. I gave him the photograph of the drawing. He tossed it into the glove compartment of his truck and did not even acknowledge it. I was crushed for days. Then one night at the bar when he was djing, he rigged the door prize of the night for me to win. I was insulted.
Our communication styles were so different. I think in art and he thought in money.

I think that's why so many women are drawn to romance novels/movies. It's the idea of the grand gesture.

What made Percy Bysshe Shelley such hot dren? You know, I have read his poetry and I find it lack luster. But yet, he was considered, and still is considered, one of the greatest poets ever.
It was part of what seduced Mary Shelley. No surprise when you think about it either, that both of their most popular works shared the same title. Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus and her husband's Prometheus Unbound .

I'm still searching for that kind of creative connection. But the message seems to disappear just when I think I have found that soul collaborator.

Can you share such a deep intimacy like that without falling in love? When someone opens the floodgates of creativity in you, what do you do when they close the door?
I think Mary Shelley got off lucky. Percy died on her. She lived her whole life knowing he was the One, knowing she had been his soulmate, his muse. There are some of us who still have to turn the corner down the street and hold our breath that we do not bump into our ex.

Least you step in that dog dren again and the stink never comes off.

We have come along way since the days of Mr. and Mrs. Percy Shelley. Maybe too far. Not only do we have a million ways to decode the communications we developed, we have just as many ways to block out the noise.
Men see a caller id and choose not to answer. They text cause it is less stress for them then actually picking up the phone. Webcamming has replaced a walk as a first date.
All this makes the face to face time that much more confusing when we do get there.

I guess it's time we got back to saying what we mean and meaning what we say.

Another song on the Melt cd has a line that goes "I say what I feel it gets me into trouble I feel what I say "

Miscommunication or what?

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