Welcome to Poetry of the Mundane Part 2 - this week we’ll be practicing the art of noticing details, and continuing to collect ordinary moments. If you’d like to start at the beginning, you can find part 1 here.
“Is it possible to see absolutely nothing? Or do you always see something, even if it is nothing more than a blur or the insides of your own eyelids”. James Elkins
By the road to the contagious hospital by William Carlos Williams
By the road to the contagious hospital under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast-a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen patches of standing water the scattering of tall trees All along the road the reddish purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy stuff of bushes and small trees with dead, brown leaves under them leafless vines— Lifeless in appearance, sluggish dazed spring approaches— They enter the new world naked, cold, uncertain of all save that they enter. All about them the cold, familiar wind— Now the grass, tomorrow the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf One by one objects are defined— It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf But now the stark dignity of entrance—Still, the profound change has come upon them: rooted, they grip down and begin to awaken
Slow Looking - the art of noticing details
What did you notice about the details in that poem? What is the poet describing? What details do you notice in your own life?
Poets notice details, not just the textures, but the feelings too. They take those details and weave them together with memories, curiosity, stories, truth and belief to create a snapshot of human life. Think about the things you see in your own life.
What does the sight of the first snow stir in your heart? How do you feel as those first sips of coffee sink into your bones? The poems created from these little details are rich in imagery, emotion and truth. They hold the truth of your own existence, of human experience. And even the tiniest most boring details can have meaning.
When you wake up in the morning and walk into the hallway to start the day - what do you notice? Can you feel the floor underneath your bare feet? Is it rough, smooth? Are you aware of the faint light creeping over the horizon - what color is it? Do you look out the window to greet the morning and see the tangled leaves tumbling out of the trees in the wind? Do you notice the shape of the clouds?
If you find that you haven't spent much time actually observing the details of your own life, there is a simple practice called slow looking that can help you refine your observations.
Shari Tishman, a researcher and advocate for arts education, introduced the concept of "slow looking," a practice that encourages us to observe our surroundings with intention, patience, and depth.
At its core, slow looking is about learning through observation. It is simply about taking a longer look at a blade of grass, a painting, the dishes piled next to the kitchen sink and carefully observing them. Slow Looking invites intentional observation, curiosity, pushing us to move behind a passing glance at sunflowers on the side of the road and start seeing the stories and emotions and wonder hidden in the details of our very fast-paced lives. How did those flowers get there? How did they survive by the side of the road? What makes sunflowers so resilient, and is it possible for me to be that strong too?
Poetry then gives us a way to take these details, questions and observations and engage with layers of meaning that would have otherwise gone unnoticed.
I can hear you thinking - okay okay, does she really mean I need to just stare at things? Well yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Grab a pen - go find a comfortable place to sit and take 3-5 minutes to practice slow looking. Look out the window, look at your bookcase or the dog. As you keep looking you will begin to notice details. Features. colors. Shadows. You will begin to have questions and little flashes of wonder. Write them down.
This is something you can do every day, every week, once a month - it’s up to you. It’s also something you can practice as you walk through a grocery store, or while you brush your teeth. Wherever you go, you can spend a minute or two slowly taking in the ordinary details around you.
Last week, I challenged you to spend a little time each day writing down three lines about the ordinary things all around you. I want you to flip through your notebook, pick one of those little lists. We’re going to practice looking at those things again, slowly and deeply. For example, here’s one of my lists:
-There are shoes spilling out of the basket in an untidy heap
-Flowers on the kitchen counter, making the room feel brighter
-My glasses, resting next to a half empty mug of tea
If your life is as ordinary as mine, it’s very likely you can find the ordinary things on your list again in your home. Pick one from your list and go find it - sit next to it. Spend 3-5 minutes taking in all the details. Write down the things you notice, the questions that arise. Even if all you write is “I’m looking at a pile of shoes and feeling kind of bored”.
What new things arise when you return to observe the ordinary? What would this pile of shoes look like in someone else’s home? Make note of what comes up for you, you can write it point form if you like. Just keep the pen moving and the eyes observing.
Therr are shoes in an untidy heap by the door. The basket is tipped on its side and there must be 5, 6 pairs of shoes on the floor. There are my worn out sandals, with holes in the sole. There are my daughter's boots, little pink flowers printed along the side. As I look at the pile of shoes I can’t help but wonder, how long will it be, before my children’s feet have grown too big for them? My son’s blue boots barely fit, and I can see how worn they are on the heels, from dragging his feet while he bikes. There’s mud caked to the side of my daughter’s runners still, she just can’t resist a mud puddle. I wonder how many puddles she’ll jump in, through her life, and if she’ll approach everything in her life with the same enthusiasm.
You can see how simply looking at what’s around you can unearth memories, feelings, stories. We are storied beings, and we like to make meaning out of ordinary things. You’ll find the longer you look deeply at something, the more threads of connection will come flowing for you.
If however, you still feel a bit stuck in this process, try using art as the subject of your slow looking practice. You can find some art and slow looking prompts here: Slow Art Day
There's also a guided slow look at a painting by Rembrandt in this video.
“Let’s stop trying to be so productive all the time and make an effort to be more curious. Do you want to look back on a life of items crossed off lists drawn up in response to the demands of others? Or do you want to hang on to, and repeat, and remember, the thrill of discovering things on your own? ”
― Rob Walker, The Art of Noticing: 131 Ways to Spark Creativity, Find Inspiration, and Discover Joy in the Everyday
Let’s stop worrying about a finished product, or getting the to do list done, or doing things “right” and just slow down. Have fun writing a poem. Have fun noticing the ordinary. Delight in curiously exploring your own life. Your own ordinary day is full of opportunities for curiosity, wonder, enchantment. Sometimes all you have to do, is slow down enough to discover that the wonder you were seeking is right in front of you.
Make a commitment this week to practice slow looking 2-3 times. Keep notes. Keep writing down three lines of ordinary observations. Next week, we’ll be exploring poetic forms and styles, and how to take these collections of ordinary moments and turn them into poetry.
Thank you for this invitation. I loved the "concept of "slow looking," a practice that encourages us to observe our surroundings with intention, patience, and depth." Like your last post, I feel the quiet in the observing, pausing to witness the dance of the ordinary. Like right now, in front of me is a dried sprig of lavender. Its aroma has long faded away. Yet I know that if I pick it up and rub my fingers over the buds its sweetness will fill my nose once more...Ahhhh the fragrance lavender!