tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post1012238355789677030..comments2023-06-28T22:58:28.247+10:00Comments on Sixth In Line: Apple pie orderElisabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-74371027375564401212009-11-07T22:15:27.455+11:002009-11-07T22:15:27.455+11:00I was fascinated throughout by what you had to say...I was fascinated throughout by what you had to say, but most particularly by your penultimate paragraph. It is something I have found to be true for me. A really good post. Thanks.Dave Kinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08430484174826768488noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-92189676470084070002009-11-06T06:32:43.154+11:002009-11-06T06:32:43.154+11:00Dear Elisabeth, I have at last decided to write a ...Dear Elisabeth, I have at last decided to write a not easy post with an enquiry on Eliot's Four Quartets.<br />Please if you feel you can leave your comment you are very, very welcome and if you have time please tell your friends to leave comments too.<br /><br />Best wishes,<br />Davide<br />(Tommaso)Tommaso Gervasuttihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17137499390434949734noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-39953842656328455732009-11-04T10:33:45.913+11:002009-11-04T10:33:45.913+11:00Recently in a letter to a friend I wrote the words...<i>Recently in a letter to a friend I wrote the words: ‘I laughed like a drain’.</i> — a cliche to you, perhaps, but wonderfully new to me.William Michaelianhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05945815778010124287noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-2919610236307181632009-11-03T13:07:58.146+11:002009-11-03T13:07:58.146+11:00I don’t usually agonise over what I’ve written, an...I don’t usually agonise over what I’ve written, and I’m quite ruthless when editing. Often find myself chuckling when I review what I've written – I'm quite brilliant at repeating the same word, either in the same sentence or paragraph. And my mixed metaphors are superb! <br /><br />Once, I tried Track Changes in Word, and felt swamped by all the hidden text sitting in the background. The reckless part of me turned Track Changes off - I felt better immediately. The piece I mentioned is an exception, and your post made me think about why I’ve been reluctant to ditch it, so thank you. Each piece has its own magic, but the pieces have been strung together in a false way. They aren’t part of a whole. A gestalt, maybe... <br /><br />‘Art and My Life’s’ comments took me back to Helen Garner’s ‘The Children’s Bach’, and that small and beautiful portrait of domestic space and creativity. I was raised in Pauline’s part of the world, so I can almost touch that kitchen of hers. A wonderful image for me.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-51032932352353148152009-11-02T23:31:01.134+11:002009-11-02T23:31:01.134+11:00Imrb, no doubt you've heard the expression: &#...Imrb, no doubt you've heard the expression: 'murder your darlings'. I'm not much good at doing this myself, but I try sometimes. <br /><br />Still I can agonize for hours after using some cliche somewhere in my writing. Recently in a letter to a friend I wrote the words: 'I laughed like a drain'. <br /><br />I keep going over this cliche in my mind now because it seems like lazy writing, but at the time I wrote these words, they felt alright. <br /><br />Do you agonize like this over the odd sentence? I often do and yet in my mess making I also often leave well enough alone.<br /><br />Jim, your photo of your office/study/writing room is wonderful. <br /><br />If I had the energy, I'd take a photo of my desk too, and post it on my blog, only I'm ashamed. <br /><br />I can describe what's in front of me now: the mess of sugarless lollies that spill out of cellophane bags - mint, butterscotch and barley sugar; a bottle of water and glass; a the half filled glass of read wine that I'm finishing now post dinner; a pair of scissors that for some reason is sitting on top of a pile of biros just above my key board; a pump pack of Sorbolene cream that stands high above the books, and letters and magazines,I've mentioned elsewhere. I use Sorbolene periodically to moisturize my dry hands; a stapler, currently empty of staples on which one of my daughters has written the words: 'This is Lis's stapler, please leave'; my circle of bracelets that I've taken off as I type because they rattle against the keyboard; my three pairs of eye glasses and a spectacle case. I wear different glasses for watching DVDs on my computer and others for typing on the keyboard. We do not possess a television in this house and all DVDs etc are viewed on the computer screen. My telephone on its stand; a chart I wrote up two years ago that plots the main outline of my thesis which no longer applies; a birthday card from a friend that arrived today in anticipation of my birthday on Guy Fawkes day; various paper clips and scraps of paper with the odd note on post it paper to remind me that I must find a certain reference book for so and so, which I promised to send to her ASAP. <br /><br />Have I decscribed the mess enough? A photo no doubt would offer a better view but perhaps this is enough. <br /><br />Gerald Murnane is also obsessional about tidiness in his writing and his writerly habits. You, Jim, and he would get on well.<br /><br />Finally, Weaver, I'm so glad you have visited my blog. I have been so taken by the beauty and honesty of yours. Here in Australia, during the fifties and sixties when I grew up, we feasted on such images of the English countryside. <br /><br />Your blog images remind me of this, but your writing, especially your poetry is something else. <br /><br />I am pleased to think that we might operate similarly as far as writing is concerned. <br /><br />It's amazing what comes out of mess, with a little help from others and tidying up between.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-52526147867303702472009-11-02T23:30:26.504+11:002009-11-02T23:30:26.504+11:00Pauline, from artandmylife, your comment reminds m...Pauline, from artandmylife, your comment reminds me of something I read somewhere about a woman writer, (for some reason I think it was Harriet Beecher Stowe) who wrote her novels at her kitchen table, just like you, surrounded by the domestic bits of her day and her children. <br /><br />When I was young I loved to do my homework surrounded by my sisters and brothers, but these days I prefer the space of my own quiet, albeit messy, writing room. <br /><br />AnnODyne, I agree life and creativity are mess making events.<br /><br />I once heard Michael Leunig, the Australian cartoonist and writer, talk about the notion of creativity. He talked about our needs as artist/writers to start with an idealised image of what we might paint or write. But once we set about the task, once the artist puts paint on his canvas, the writer puts words on the page, this initial idealised image begins to disintegrate. <br /><br />It no longer seems such a fantastic idea. The stuff we produce on the canvas or or the page does not match the ideas in our head. It's at this point that we are faced with a choice: chuck it all in or persevere. <br /><br />In the event that we, as artist or writer persevere, now we splash paint onto the canvas or words onto the page with utter disregard. <br /><br />The idealised image no longer applies. In time something new appears to develop on the canvas. This, Leunig says, is creativity. <br /><br />He, too, talks of the need to keep trying. In Leunig's view the first idea is never so good as the second. <br /><br />I paraphrase badly here, but I hope you get my drift.Elisabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04015624747225433940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-32825220270196236372009-11-02T21:24:30.417+11:002009-11-02T21:24:30.417+11:00I like the idea of "continual try" Eliza...I like the idea of "continual try" Elizabeth - shall use it as one of my mantras - the one I shall apply to my textile art.<br />How we write and how tidy we are in the process is such a personal thing isn't it? You sound rather like me in your approach to writing. I do an awful lot of thinking before I commit to paper and then go for it - and get someone else to then read it through. As far as tidiness goes - there comes a point at which I have to stop and tidy everything away because otherwise I can't find anything - also it is so easy to knock a pile of books over and scatter the lot.<br />Thank you for visiting my blog. I have really enjoyed my return visit and shall put you on my blog list now. See you again I hope.The Weaver of Grasshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13947971556343746883noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-20344107080000078292009-11-02T02:59:21.666+11:002009-11-02T02:59:21.666+11:00Order is very important to me. We order what we ca...Order is very important to me. We order what we can to make us feel better about our inability to order what we can't. When I cannot work I'll tidy often at the oddest of times too That said my room never needs much ordering so I'll dust instead. There have been so many times I've sat down at my desk and something wasn't sitting right and I'd have to sort it first whereas at other times I'm oblivious to everything but the work. I hate distractions, which is why you'll never find me working in front of a window. I have no problem piling up books in front of me when I'm working and even leaving them for days on end but when that project is done they all get put by. Nowadays the Internet is my library so it's rare for me to have even a scrap of paper on my desk. Here's a <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kmVGrSP_9gU/R2onGtTEIjI/AAAAAAAAAGc/TTX9yTYyweE/s1600-h/bird_2949.jpg" rel="nofollow">photo</a> of my desk if you're interested.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-85284033776729580812009-11-01T21:08:42.193+11:002009-11-01T21:08:42.193+11:00I can be tidy, and I can be incredibly messy. The ...I can be tidy, and I can be incredibly messy. The orderly part is about my desire to produce a coherent self, about stopping time maybe – this world is knowable, an abstraction. Doesn’t last long, the messy me arrives (I start smiling inwardly about this time), and things start to flow. I’m not distancing myself from the rhythms of life, I’m travelling, and the words arrive from many side roads. <br /><br />If I stay too long in this ever-moving world, I begin to lose my sense of direction. A narrative has to have some purpose, though only if the magic of the free fall moments is not lost in this move towards coherence. <br /><br />I have a story that is a cobbling together of bits with a similar theme. I put these bits together on purpose, despite my little voice saying “don’t”. It remains a mess. It doesn’t work, it is disjointed, and I’m blowed if I can get back to where I was when I wrote these bits. Maybe I’ve fallen in love with some of the writing, and can’t let it go, can’t see it for what it is.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-76189384922470454312009-11-01T15:44:05.796+11:002009-11-01T15:44:05.796+11:00that 'apple-pie order' being the neat, tri...that 'apple-pie order' being the neat, trimmed-of-excess, minimum amount of pastry required to encase the filling<br /><br />Mr Neat lists as his first step:<br />"Write in the first instance what you plan to say"<br /><br />when that would be the <i>second</i> step; the first being gathering all the facts and information from which you might choose 'what'. like the pastry one makes, knowing that a percentage will be trimmed and discarded.<br /><br />"how do you win battles?" the interviewer asked General Napoleon, and got the reply:<br /><br />"well first you get everybody together and you go there".<br /><br />fighting is messy, life is messy, death is messy. I used to be fearfully neat, and realised that neat people are fearful.Ann ODynehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01159263330547329077noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28133718.post-66131205522649544032009-11-01T15:28:35.071+11:002009-11-01T15:28:35.071+11:00I write at my kitchen table and DREAM of 'appl...I write at my kitchen table and DREAM of 'apple pie order'. Just now it's as likely I am sharing the table with a real apple pie (and crayons, and stickers and split yoghurt and small plastic toys and ....)Artandmylifehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07771479314101299897noreply@blogger.com