Inspiration through Collaboration
by Kirsten Cliff
I never thought I'd need a prompt to
get me writing. I always seemed to have new ideas, and could easily
draw from what was happening around me. Then some dark days arrived –
cancer, mostly – and it seemed that the act of writing got harder.
I was writing less. Maybe that was okay? But being generally
uninspired in my play with words did not feel good. So when a haiku
friend (who'd also survived cancer) asked if I wanted to write with
her, I welcomed the opportunity to expand my writing world.
Cara Holman and I started writing
rengay together: a modern form of linked haiku verse. I found
that writing to the prompt of her haiku lead me to write poetry that
I wouldn't have penned otherwise. On really hard days – when the
chemotherapy was stripping me bare – collaborating was what helped
me get out of bed in the morning. Why? Because I knew that the next
link in the poem would be waiting in my email inbox.
I quickly became excited about writing
again. I was inspired in a way I hadn't been before. My writing was
taken in new directions. It was still my writing voice, but it was
brought to life through the links of my poetry with Cara's. I got
instant feedback on my work, often in the form of her next haiku
verse. This was highly positive as it meant I had inspired my writing
partner, too. We were on a roll.
The Scent of Pine
Cara
Holman & Kirsten
Cliff
evening sky
the moon cradled
in the ginkgo's branches
the scratch of pencil
on paper
hushed dawn
bird tracks
in the snow
fallen fence post
counting out pills
for the day
a hawk scatters
the flock of starlings
cloud cover
the scent of pine
from the wood pile
Our first two rengay, “The Scent of
Pine” and “Turning a Corner”, were quickly accepted for
publication, appearing in the on-line journal A Hundred Gourds
(June 2013). Over the
course of that year we wrote 13 rengay together, including four on
our joint experiences of cancer, and all were well received by
editors. Every time we completed a rengay, we'd start another. It was
addictive. And so much fun!
Then I got the itch to try a tanka
sequence and asked another writing friend, Margaret Dornaus, if she'd
like to work with me. We quickly found a subject we could both get
stuck into: our overseas travels. We took inspiration from photos of
our journeys abroad, and wrote our first sequence of tanka linked by
that travel bug. Margaret and I have since written together several
times and I find her feedback invaluable. I'm learning all the time
in this world of poetry and she is one of my teachers.
So the positives of collaboration
continued, and the desire to do more never waned. After each project
I'd feel the need for a break – it was time to return to my own
writing. But these 'breaks' never lasted long. My hunger for this new
type of inspiration would rapidly grow, and before I knew it I'd be
emailing a friend with a new idea for a rengay or tanka sequence. I
soon grew bolder and began asking others to write with me. I've now
written with six different people.
Lost & Found
Margaret Dornaus & Kirsten Cliff
crossing the river
into this new year, alone
I stop
to look at every turn
before I carry on
first dream of the year
diagnosing her pain
as leukaemia . . .
could I find the strength
to do it over again
on the bench
at the foot of her bed
a clutch of tissues . . .
abandoned like the words
she can no longer recall
I hear her say
she's lost the will to live . . .
the waves
keep on cresting
keep on breaking
winter fog—
the lighthouse steps
we climb
to see whatever
we might see
all day long
the peacock's cry
the peacock's cry
once again
I fail to listen
to my intuition
I fail to listen
to my intuition
Part of a tanka sequence published in
LYNX (March 2013)
Experimentation was part of the joy.
Cara and I played with the rengay form creating what we called
'rengay sequences': four rengay linked together. This developed from
that drive to keep writing with one another, and wanting to explore
all avenues of a particular theme. Now I'm breaking new ground with
Seánan Forbes: we are writing tanka sequences
using repeating lines. This occurred the first time naturally when I
was so inspired by Seánan's starting tanka verse
that I wanted to use one of her lines in my linking tanka. It can be
quite a challenge to use your writing partner's first line as your
third line, for example, but, once again, I can't seem to say no!
A very different experience was my
first time writing face-to-face, and as part of a group, at the June
2012 Haiku Festival Aotearoa in Tauranga. It was a session filled
with laughter, and where I realised I wasn't too good at writing
haiku under pressure! Sandra Simpson lead ten of us in writing a
junicho: a longer and stricter form of Japanese linked haiku
verse. It was also a 'competitive' write, which meant that we all
contributed verses for each new spot, and Sandra choose the one that
linked best. Although this began in real-time, it was completed
on-line, which gave me more space to become inspired by the preceding
verse. The experience of working face-to-face in a group setting is
one I would definitely repeat, though. After all, it is how linked
verses were traditionally written in Japan.
I've since gone on to create
collaborative haiga (putting haiku with a photographic image)
with two of my haiku friends. I was also part of Ruth Arnison's
'Poems in the Waiting Room' fundraiser, which saw the haiku of North
Island poets paired with South Island artists. In this collaboration
I was a silent partner, but was excited by the artists'
interpretations of my haiku. I look forward to future collaborations
with other people outside the world of haiku, as well as those within
it.
First published in a fine line, The Magazine of the New Zealand Poetry Society (September 2013); reprinted at NorthWrite
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