And then, for me, transience stopped. I hung on like rock, like time itself. The day’s light opined a place where numbers failed me. No addition. No subtraction.
Actually, this challenge has changed a bit. Allow me to articulate...
Once we have a finished draft (Saturday at noon is the cutoff), we will begin a process of layering (a la painting).
We will use the initial draft as our canvas and then start applying layers of poem. These layers will come from other sources (i.e., the short biography of an obscure mathematician, an excerpt from an explanation of physics, etc.). The layerer will pull details and language and apply (with quick brustrokes) them to the poem. We will add a few layers and then subtract one or two resulting layers. This will all make sense once we've done it.
3 comments:
Allow me to interject a challenge, mid-poem.
1. We let this sucker roll on until you leave on Saturday morning.
2. At that point, I'll paste it all into a single document.
When you arrive, at some point,
3. We either
a. work on a revised (re-improvised) draft with slightly new restrictions.
or
b. work on two revised (re-improvised) drafts with two sets of slightly new restrictions.
or
c. we do a or b alone and then repost after you return to Exeter.
o.k.
Actually, this challenge has changed a bit. Allow me to articulate...
Once we have a finished draft (Saturday at noon is the cutoff), we will begin a process of layering (a la painting).
We will use the initial draft as our canvas and then start applying layers of poem. These layers will come from other sources (i.e., the short biography of an obscure mathematician, an excerpt from an explanation of physics, etc.). The layerer will pull details and language and apply (with quick brustrokes) them to the poem. We will add a few layers and then subtract one or two resulting layers. This will all make sense once we've done it.
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