Oh great! Its always interesting to witness these
transmutations…in fact the liminal space between a
‘transmutation’ and iteration is quite
interesting…well, transmutation is not the correct
word perhaps, too much of religious and sci-fi
associations…I mean the point at which it starts
becoming a different work...

At some level, one can say that this process of
iteration/transmutation finds  a parallel/resonance in
the simple mechanism  of the “crop” with regard to
an image. I guess we are all familiar with the process
where we let a gray window hover and move over the
surface of a large painting. Sometimes a tight crop
seems to work in its own right, almost as another
painting. 

Obviously, things become more fraught and politically
charged in photography. One of the most famous crop is
perhaps that Che-Guevera image...

Anyway, too much prose on a poetry list.

Mondrian...well he is one of my favorite, a textbook
almost. Notwithstanding the fact that graphic
designers all over the world have ‘quoted’ him to
death (vapid, effete use of history..urgh!)..anyway
that’s what I do for a living too. But basically a
visual artist. 


--- jane bhandari <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:

>  The image is always very clear in my mind, I think
> because first and foremost I am a painter, an
> image-maker. As a result most of my poems deal with
> the visual image rather than the idea, and often
> enough with just one moment in time. The process of
> revision is not so much evolution as the cutting
> away of excessive verbiage, until I have exposed as
> much of the image as I want. Most of my poems start
> out longer and end up cropped.
>  
> The lines you liked were suggested by the image of
> the corpse-like leaves, which in turn came from the
> sound of the mourners' feet in the previous stanza.
> A corpse needs a shroud... Interesting that you
> should think of Mondrian's Grey Tree. It was at the
> back of my mind while I made the revisions. I had
> been to the Tate the previous week to see an
> exhibition of modern painters, and while that
> particular painting was not on display some of his
> others were, including the more sober ones.
>  
> I am considering a haiku on the last 3 lines simply
> because that tense image of the sharpened branches
> lends itself to the terseness of the form. This is
> one of the pleasures of writing...taking a portion
> of your work and reshaping it, not as a clone, but
> an offshoot. The result is sometimes far better than
> the original.
>  
> Thanks! 
>  
> jane
>  
>  
> After the first gales, leaves lie across the grass
> Like corpses, whispering death in ghostly voices,
> And the wind keens through the empty branches,
> Sharpening their edges against the bitter sky,
> Cutting it into a grey shroud for dead summer.
>  
> 
> What do you do, that you know about Mondrian?
> 
> Abhishek Hazra <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
> tears.>
> :-)
> no, no not at all, Jane! When brother and sister
> sing
> that song together in a dim-lit room in Ghatak's
> "Cloud Capped Star" (Meghe Dhaka Tara) can one
> resist
> the tears? 
> 
> Just curious, Jane. In your writing process, how
> does
> the imagery evolve over versions/revisions?
> I really liked the image of the sharpened branch.
> For
> me, those last three lines were really visually
> evocative, particularly the action of the branches
> ‘cutting up the sky’. 
> I was kind of reminded of Mondrian’s ‘Grey
> Tree’...Particularly the manner in which the mass
> of
> broken lines carve up the picture plane in multiple
> ways producing arrays of form-counter pairs. 
>  
>               
> ---------------------------------
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