My true writing space is a small home office. A window to the left of my desk, just large enough to see daylight, sky, some green. I begin a new poem on lined 8 1/2 by 11, comfortable Cross pen in hand. Sometimes I transfer a poem to a large artist’s pad in order to visualize the poem “larger.” After a few drafts, I usually move to my computer. Here I focus on revision. For a long time I was in love with the seminal emotions, imaginings, words and sounds of a poem; but now I practice “re-seeing” each aspect of craft, its configuration in the whole. I also read the poem aloud to hear the sounds it makes, over and over. It can take me several years to write some poems; these need time to evolve.
A small space in my home office is delineated by a rectangular rug and several folded blankets for meditation and Iyengar asana practice. This, too, demands focus and persistent work. So I would say to an aspiring writer as I say to myself: persist. When in the stream of writer’s block, cut off from persistence, I feel uncomfortable. So I remind myself of two things. There is something else in life that I must tend to now. And the writing of poems— my great joy—will return.
Check out Marjorie’s work in the issue, Volume 3, Issue 1.