Last December, Arc Poetry Magazine invited me to take part in a cool project: a game of telephone tag involving six poets and five artists. Each of us were to be inspired by the work immediately before us then hand ours over to the next in line.

David O’Meara led off with his excellent poem ‘The Throw’ from which Andrew Farrell created a powerful painting, Flight Club, and then it was my turn.

When we were all done, David wrote a closing poem to sum it all up. You can see the results in Arc’s Poetry Annual 2011 by visiting your local bookstore. It’s worth buying as there are other wonderful poetry/art collaborations in there too. Mind you, it’s always worth buying Arc. We learn by doing and reading.

This project was special for me. I grew up in a house furnished in early Kmart so when I discovered beauty at university, I was instantly addicted. A friend undertook my education, giving me Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and D. H. Lawrence to read, taking me to art galleries, and introducing me to fresh vegetables. Since then, beauty has been a necessary part of my life. I’ve belonged to art galleries wherever I lived.

So I was happy I was assigned to follow Andy. He paints beautiful pictures. And he was generous with his time and his self. He invited me over to see Flight Club (it’s big), served cookies and tea, then left me alone. I sat on the floor before it for a long time, capturing the thoughts and images that came flooding in. It wasn’t hard. Andy had painted onto a rough-hewn piece of wood that he’d further worked over. The piece had texture. Bite. I could see so much depth in it.

Later, we talked about what had been in his mind while he worked on it. Not about the poem that had inspired it—that wasn’t allowed. But life stuff. His and mine. I left his house that day with lots of photos and rich ideas and I spent the next two weeks going back and forth between them.

By the time my deadline was up, I had four poems written. None looked good in their original draft. But after polishing, I had to choose one to submit. Here it is in the rough along with Andy’s painting:

First Version
Looking For You

Flight Club, Andrew Farrell

It happens. You make it look so smooth
when it’s not. The gouging of skin into earth. Toss a ball
in the air and Pluto disappears, planets become moons
looking for classification. Ice doesn’t melt
gouges land in waves as it retreats
over your landscape, throwing rocks
onto hills. The land is as harsh
as we are. Pluto is a ball of ice. Don’t land there
without a mask. Insulation. A catcher’s mitt
will not sustain you this time. Reach further
into the space in between, learn to map
the blackness with words, inch
by square inch. It is our only tool
for computation.

Where did this come from? Well first, I’m an astronut. As a child, I longed to go into space. See planets float by. I read sci fi by the bushel. Was I thinking of this when I saw Andy’s poem? No. But that sense of longing, of displacement, came through. And there’s that beautiful unmapped black space I couldn’t resist. I kept the baseball imagery but I translated it as I worked through my thoughts about relationships.

You can see from the first draft that I was feeling my way into this poem. By the end, you can see why I decided to go with it. The last half of this poem came out fully formed. This is very rare for me.

So my work here was to tighten the first half, honing and honing until it matched the crispness of the end. I also had to make it factually correct. My personal geographer pointed out that if the ice isn’t melting, it’s advancing.

This isn’t an easy poem. Much work is left for the reader to do. But I’m fond of it.

Final Version:

Looking For You

It happens. Toss a ball in the air
and Pluto disappears, a planet
in need of classification. Ice doesn’t melt,
scrapes earth as it advances
over your landscape, throwing rocks
onto hills. Terrain as harsh
as we are. Pluto is a ball of ice. Don’t land there
without a mask. Insulation.
A catcher’s mitt will not sustain you
this time. Reach further
into the space in between, learn to map
the blackness with words, inch
by square inch. It is our only tool
for computation.

I also am very happy that Marisa Gallemit was the artist who came after me. She only had two weeks—with a deadline of Christmas Day—to create something out of my poem. She stinted on her presents that year, choosing to regard my poem as a gift instead of a nuisance, honouring it with her full attention. She created this beautiful three dimensional piece.

Looking for You V2.0, Marisa Gallemit

Do buy Arc‘s Poetry Annual 2011 so you can read and see the rest of the chain. The following is the full list of poets and artists who took part, in the sequence of inspiration: David O’Meara, Andrew Farrell, Gillian Wallace, Marisa Gallemit, Barbara Myers, Maria Lezon, Max Middle, Andrea Stokes, Sandra Ridley, Abi Lyon Wicke, and Michelle Desbarats.