5 Replies to “A grand piano”

    1. The story goes like this. At first, I saw this grand piano standing on the ice. The words added a certain swing to the image. Next, I felt a need for dramatizing and defined the piano as black on black background (ice). Logic entered the scene and asked me how I could possible to detect that instrument. The solution was a tiny islet in the background. The image of which was broken by the image of the grand piano. To add even more to the drama I introduced the open sea and broken ice further out. /Göran

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      1. Wonderful! This really adds to the other answer you gave me as well! Really interesting how different processes can be. Yours seems to use quite a bit of logic and reasoning mixed with chance (as in using the word generator).

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  1. Dear Nadine. There is a method in it. At least a procedure. I used a random word generator. It starts with sets of three software-generated numbers. These numbers are used in selecting one word out of a book. They control the page, line and distance into that line. In fact, the same sets of numbers could be applied to any book. I then pick the noun or verb that comes next. I bring them together in groups of 6-8 and shuffle them around. Some words get attached to my mind and generate an internal image. I take that image and write from that.

    At my first try, I was able to stick to the flow maintaining the inward connection. Then I lost my grip and recoiled to everyday ruminating language. On the second try, I was able to reconnect to the original image and create line four and onwards.

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  2. WOW. Fascinating process, concise and helpful explanation. Thank you, Göran.

    Today I saw the blog of a friend. She had copied this poem from Yeats into her post. It reminded me, if I have interpreted it correctly, of the theme of your poem. Here it is:

    “The Second Coming

    “Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

    “Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again; but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

    – W.B. Yeats

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