Search

Joseph E Bird

Let's talk about reading, writing and the arts.

Tag

painting

Writing Tip – Go Back. Way Back.

Have you ever lost your way?

Lost your vision?

Lost your purpose?

As you know, I’ve been working on Heather Girl for a while now, taking my time, letting the story unfold gently, getting to know the characters.  I’m about two-thirds through.  I’ve passed the dreaded middle section and should be cruising to the finish line.

And yet, as I stare at the computer screen, I wonder if it’s all been a wasted effort. Sure, I’ve written a scene or two that I’m fond of, but I worry that there’s not enough story. Maybe I should just trash it all.

So I went back to the beginning. To that first sentence I wrote. The first paragraph. The first chapter.

I met Heather all over again.

And I remembered.

I remembered why I started this in the first place. Remembered why I like her.   Remembered why I have to tell her story, from beginning to end.

I wonder if this technique might work for other art forms.

I can see an artist, not sure where a painting is going, looking back at the first sketch in the notebook that inspired the painting. Or a musician, caught up in working out the third verse, going back to that first phrase, or that first chord progression that got her started. Even the runner, working through an injury, finding joy in just running a mile again.

It helps to remember why you’re doing something in the first place.

Go back.

Do your thing.

Eugene Bird at work

This young man is my father.
The photo was taken in the early days of his career as an electrical engineer.

In many ways, he is the stereotypical engineer.  He’s analytical.  He’s a logical problem solver.  He pays attention to detail.  He would be considered a left-brain thinker.  Creative types – your artists, musicians, actors, dancers – are generally considered right-brian thinkers.  If you think with the left side of your brain, you’d make a good engineer.  If you think with the right side, you might be a good writer.  And for much of what I remember about my father, this would seem to hold true.

When I was growing up, I don’t remember him doing anything very creative.  He was very much an engineer, and was a great (if sometimes intimidating) teacher of math and science to me and my sisters.

Most of his career he worked for Union Carbide and when they began to build new production facilities in Texas, he was transferred to Houston.  My family moved to Texas twice, and when he was sent to Houston for a third time, he opted to go it alone and not put the family through another move. So what does an engineer living by himself do in his spare time?

Golf?  Maybe jigsaw puzzles?  No.  He took up painting.  When he returned home we were astounded by what he had done. Among other things, he painted this scene of the old Morgan homestead near Winfield (WV), across from what is now the John Amos power plant.

eugene painting for web

As far as I know, he had never painted anything before.  There were other paintings, including a very lifelike portrait of Pittsburgh Steeler great, Mean Joe Green.

But when he came back home, he was done with painting.

In the 4o-some years since, he’s completed home improvement projects and done some woodworking, but not much that would label him as a creative type.

Then last year, my sister suggested to our then 86-year-old father that he should do pencil sketches of his great-grandchildren. He agreed.  Here’s one of the twins, Bear.

bear for web

For most of his life, my father has played the role of engineer.  He is still very practical and analytical, and his fondness for logic would make Mr. Spock proud. And then he’ll surprise us with those sparks of creativity that seem to come forth every forty years or so.

Lessons in all of this?

Don’t sell yourself short. You may not even realize the potential within.  Do your thing.

Too old? Nope. That just doesn’t cut it. Do your thing.

It will make your life better.

 

 

 

 

A young woman lies on the cobblestone.

A young woman
lies on the cobblestone.
Her body is twisted.
She is bleeding.
She has left us.

A young woman
is supposed to live.
And laugh.
And love.
No, not this.

Such a young woman.
What?
Why?
Who?
Such a young woman.

Others have gone too soon.
A cousin.
A brother.
A son.
A mother.

A young woman
lies on the cobblestone.
Yesterday I saw her.
Today she is here.
She has left us.


copyright 2017, joseph e bird


A word of explanation.  The other day, I was listening to Dvorak’s Requiem while I was working at the office.  I was listening via YouTube, and whoever posted the video used the painting of the late nineteenth century German painter, Jakub Schikaneder as the sole image in the video.  It inspired this fourth poem in my Young Woman series.  The painting is called Murder in the House.  Yes, it’s disturbing.  Life is fragile.

Painting with a different palette.

Stone Bridge in a park setting
Cherokee Park, Louisville, Kentucky – Designed by Frederick Law Olmsted

He paints with lakes and wooded slopes;
with lawns and banks and forest-covered hills;
with mountain sides and ocean views.

Daniel Burnham, speaking of Frederick Law Olmsted

In 1893, Chicago architect Daniel Burnham was working hard to finish the design of the Chicago World’s Fair, also known as the Columbian Exposition. It spread over 600 acres with more than 200 buildings and attracted some 26 million visitors in its first six months. Working with Burnham was Frederick Law Olmsted, the father of modern landscape architecture.

By the time they collaborated on the World’s Fair, Olmsted had already designed New York’s Central Park and thousands of other projects around the country.

In the mid-19th century, industrialization sparked dramatic growth and cities became crowded and generally unpleasant places to live. In 1857, Harper’s Weekly called New York “a huge semi-barbarous metropolis…with filthy and unlighted streets, no practical or efficient security for either life or property.”

With this as the backdrop, it’s no wonder that Olmsted’s designs, focusing on pastoral and picturesque scenery, became so popular. Olmsted was all about giving people a natural, restorative landscape. It’s not as easy as it looks, and it’s why his work is still relevant today and why his principles of design are so revered.

Landscape architecture has evolved as the needs of the world have changed. Even so, landscape architects today would do well to paint scenes in the landscape with lakes and lawns and wooded slopes. And though our cities are not the semi-barbarous metropolises of the past, our need for restoration is greater than ever. Good landscape architecture can give us a place where our spirits find rest.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑