[Jill Alexander Essbaum]

Cally--

When I hit a bump.... I fret. And then, I go back to the absolute basis of poetry-- delight in language. I read the dictionary. Oh dictionary! I love thee muchly! I just yesterday in fact figured out that thanks to my job, I have online access to an OED subscription. (And yes, the first thing I did was look up dirty words . )

I keep running lists of ideas, failed poems, stray lines, titles. I read old magazines and look for quirky syntax. I scavenge. I read prose, which, when I'm stuck, I find more useful in the getting-unstuck than poetry. I keep busy. I walk. I listen harder.

I do an exercise-- mostly only in drastic circumstances-- that seems to work. I have a timer that I set for 8 minutes. I write as many 8-minute poems as I can-- with the caveat that they MUST be really really really bad. I make them intentionally bad. I use the whole 8 minutes. It's pretty liberating-- but again, the structure! I can't do it unless I have the imposition of the rules-- in this case, as bad as I can make them, and the all and only of an 8 minute time limit.

Also, I pester my friends to tell me that it will be all ok.

[Jill Alexander Essbaum]

Carol-- thanks for your questions and you good words!

I'll leave the list of poets I dig for now (there's a buried thread up in there that lists a ton of them) and try and answer the other question, about how people respond.

Again, on some level it's hard to say-- I'm hardly a famous poet (whatever that means), which means, of course, that mostly there isn't a lot of people talking about the work, for better or worse. I've said this before in other places, and I think this is true-- I find that churched folks have an easier time dealing with the explicit sexuality in my work than secular people have, dealing with the Jesus. Does that ring true for anyone else?

[Jill Alexander Essbaum]

Mark-- rant away! It's some fine ranting! And I agree!

[Carol Trese]

Hey Jill,
You said

"I find that churched folks have an easier time dealing with the explicit sexuality in my work than secular people have, dealing with the Jesus."

Yes. I am a secular person who has a harder time with the Jesus stuff. So, please talk about that aspect of your work! I am fascinated with religion. If you can, please talk about how your relationship with God influences your work. I can see that it energizes you and drives your poetry. I know I am asking a huge question, but I think so many people would like to understand folks relationship to God in respect to their writing (shifting to third person here!) Oh hell, should I just send you a private message? Is this question too big?

Cally asked "What are you afraid of?" I had dinner tonight with an old dear friend and we discussed that question at length. Jill, you said that you are afraid of God. Can you say what you mean by that?

Mark A. posted a great piece about the body and the soul, via Whitman and Lawrence. I loved it. Something like: "Soul! You get back where you belong!" Yes.

I find Poetry helps to answer these big questions.

My big question to you is "How does your belief in God influence your work?" And I know this question is too broad. Just give hints if you can.

++ Carol

[Jill Alexander Essbaum]

Carol--

No, ask away! I only hope that my answer is both relevant and not dopey.

So, faith. I think that in my writing as well as my life, the presence of God is a given. I talk to God, I ask for help, I pester, nag, and hector God. I ignore God, I yell at God, I curse at God, I chat with God. Constantly? Of course not. Consistently? Yup.

I don't have a rational response for my belief-- I simply do. For me, for now-- that's enough.

But-- say we don't call it 'God'. Say we call it Love, or Life, or Truth, or Consciousness, or Nature, or The Universe-- or anything 1) worth believing in that is also 2) an entity of creative energy, large enough to take up undeniable space in a gal's life. I simply don't know an artist who doesn't have a relationship with The Source (call it what you will), whether they are religious or not, Christian or not, whether, even, they care to name it or not. You know? So in your work (and not knowing it, I'm still prepared to make as bold a statement as this) there's an equivalent presence or 'character'-- a force, an urge, a beneficence-- that shows itself with regularity. Not even in the words necessarily. Behind and through the words, sometimes. It's that. I think, at least.

As far as fear of God-- it all comes down to this: what if, in my trollope-ishness and my harlotry and all my celebration of the body and things that can be sexily done with it, I'm wrong? And what if, having had a voice to use in the pursuit of righteousness and truth, I instead used it for falsity and selfy sins? Ack, that would suck.

I don't, however, think I am wrong. But I fear it. I'm therefore cautious to never dare to speak on behalf of anyone but myself-- this is why I can never be a pastor. You're beholden to speak, in that case, on behalf of the Church. I can't presume to do that. I'd have to edit the hell outta myself.

Is this helpful? Do this make sense? Right now I fear I'm sounding very silly.

[David Rosenthal]

Jill,

Thanks for participating in this forum. I enjoyed the poems in the other thread. Thanks also for you generous responses in this thread -- it is an interesting discussion.

You said:

Originally Posted by Jill Alexander Essbaum

I simply don't know an artist who doesn't have a relationship with The Source (call it what you will), whether they are religious or not, Christian or not, whether, even, they care to name it or not.

Well, we haven't met. But seriously, I have heard this expressed by many people, and have discussed it a great deal with many friends -- poets and artists and others -- and I think I have some understanding of what they mean by this "Source (call it what you will)" and the relationship they have with it. But such a relationship is not part of my experience, and resides for me in a category of experience that just isn't salient to me personally (though many people have tried to argue with me that is is and I just don't recognize it or something -- which usually strikes me a condescending position, as if I haven't deeply thought about these things before arriving at whatever provisional conclusions I have reached).

Clearly, though, it is salient to you, and the relationship you describe seems to you to be deeply linked to your creative production. I wonder if you can describe the nature of that link, and if you can say something about folks like me who lack it. Is creativity apart from the "Source" imaginable to you? Is it limited without that relationship? I don't mean those questions to sound snarky or provocative -- I have no intention to start a debate or anything -- I am truly interested in the questions and your answers.

Best,

David R.

[Jill Alexander Essbaum]

Hi David, thanks for the question.

I think I know what you're saying and I'm going to counter it (ever so slightly) by taking the touchy-feely god-y part away from my initial answer.

As a creative person, then there's something in you driving you to create. It can simply be "the desire to create." That's MORE than enough. My contention is that this desire (be it niggling or overwhelming or anywhere in between) shows up in the work. You do it because you want to, and the 'wanting to', I suspect, is a presence. The intention. But where does this originate?

In my own estimation-- it all comes from the same place. But again, I speak only for myself and would never presume to convince someone I don't know that they're mistaken.

But, say that I'm wrong (I could very well be)-- you're connected to something when you write, yes? Something inside. Hell, it could very well be only inside, you know?

I think what forces me to link the two together-- Creator and Urge to Create-- is, plainly, the symmetry of the experience. Pious, I ain't. But I have (for worse and for better) a strangely difficult time divorcing my day-to-day doings and my religious life. They're inextricable.

This hasn't always been the case, and I wasn't raised churched. ("Churched" is such a queer word!) And I'd been foolish to assert that the things I believe at 38 will be the things I believe at 48, 58, 68-- about the universe, about poetry.

But I'm pretty sure that something other-wise, something other-than-my-self has a hand in my work, my desire to do the work.

Perhaps that's where we most diverge-- it's hard for me to believe that I'm driving the car of my desires. I don't think the desire originates internally inside of me. I'll certainly nod to the possibility that it does, but I'm twitchy about believing it.

It's by no means a snarky or provocative question! I'm happy for the discussion. I hope my answer isn't condescending-- that's not my intent at all.

[Cally Conan-Davies]

Jill,

Last thing from me -

Love your metered feet!

And heart-felt thanks for all your giving.

Cally

[David Rosenthal]

Originally Posted by Jill Alexander Essbaum

Perhaps that's where we most diverge-- it's hard for me to believe that I'm driving the car of my desires. I don't think the desire originates internally inside of me. I'll certainly nod to the possibility that it does, but I'm twitchy about believing it.

Well, I confess I don't think I am all that twitchy in reverse, but I do think that this is where we diverge. I am profoundly, often dispiritedly, often joyfully, aware that I am in fact driving my own car. But I also wouldn't deny someone else the conclusions of their own experience -- the divergence can be a fascination without being an argument.

Anyway, great answer -- no condescension detected. Thanks for taking the time.

David R.

[Jill Alexander Essbaum]

David-- if you're up for it, I wouldn't mind hearing more about your experience as the 'driver of the car of your desires.' Esp. the joyful and the dispirited parts of it. As I am ever-fond of extremes.

And Cally-- thanks! The poet Jessica Piazza and I had them done together before West Chester in 08. Best conversation started ever!

Jill