Eneh Akpan Writes: Pablo Picasso

Showing posts with label Pablo Picasso. Show all posts

Monday, December 13, 2010

"Piz, piz" (The Picasso Legacy)

Old guy with a guitar by Picasso

I have something that might interest you.

Never mind the title of my post. It’s not an attempt to plagiarize Dan Brown’s work. Matter-of-factly, it’s the furthest thing on my mind at the moment. You could say it’s a shot at reinforcing Pablo Picasso’s words,

My mother said to me, “if you are a soldier, you will become a general. If you are a monk, you will become the Pope.’ Instead, I was a painter, and became Picasso.

Don’t you just adore the audacity of that declaration? What does it take to be able to quote you; to stand on the mountaintop and speak across the stretch of a lifetime, and have the echo of your words carry across meadows, out-of-the-way prairies, through the most unlikely crannies of the earth many generations after your soul dissolves into eternity?

Picasso showed a passion and a skill for drawing from an early age; according to his mother, his first words were ‘piz, piz ’, a shortening of ‘lápiz’, the Spanish word for ‘pencil’. Wikipedia

Picasso

In 1900, after studying Art in Madrid, Picasso moved over to Paris where he made friends with Max Jacob (journalist and poet) with whom he shared apartment. They had a sort of sleeping timetable. Max maxed out at night, while Picasso stole a wink during the day and worked all night long. Those were tough days and reeked of cold and despair, so Picasso torched quite a few of his work to keep the small room warm.

Really, I’m not about to do a run up of Picasso’s bio you can look that up on Wikipedia if you like. These are vital lessons from a simple, extraordinary life. Something anybody who finds it in their heart to be sincere about their personal call in life ought to take and run with it.

He can who thinks he can, Picasso says, and he can’t who thinks he can’t.

Portrait by Picasso

Is it really possible to surround yourself with all the tools of a life on the verge of explosion – a dream, ambition, and ammunition – and still miss the mark? Oh, I’ve heard of people missing the mark by over a mile riding popular opinion. But this is as different from that as a whiff from a whim.

Close your eyes and imagine a picture perfect portrait of you in other people’s opinion. Now, create another picture, this time on a personal canvas, a painting of you as who you ought to be. Step back and assess your progress in the race to the finish line.

Have you been a butt kisser?

Would your life, ten to twenty years from this moment in time echo Picasso’s words?

Picasso was exceptionally prolific throughout his long lifetime. The total number of artworks he produced has been estimated at 50,000, comprising 1,885 paintings; 1,228 sculptures; 2,880 ceramics, roughly 12,000 drawings, many thousands of prints, and numerous tapestries and rugs. Wikipedia

My hope is that in this brief diagram of a life fulfilled you have witnessed something more to challenge you for the rest of your life.

Let your pen bleed!

Akpan

Monday, December 6, 2010

The Purpose of the Imagination

If I had to paint a picture...

It would be a reality,

‘Cause it’s only what’s inside of my heart.

Billy Ocean,

Color of Love

This, I think, is the second time in my blogging history that I will shoot off a post from lyrics of a song. Each of these times, I’ve had a rare sense of fulfillment lifting words from two of my favorite artists through childhood years. The lyrics have opened a new way of seeing for me, one that appeals fiercely to the child within, the kid who heard those songs spun from records off the needles of his father’s Turntable long before the dawn of CDs.

Billy’s, for one, is an album I promised myself, in those days when large, black flying saucers called records were the vogue, I’ll add to my personal collection when I got old enough to foot the bills. I think I made the grade. Not with a record though, but a ‘2 CD’ special edition produced by some Shandong Chinese company. That don’t mean it’s a pirated copy as any Nigerian would willingly bear witness.

Now, on what I was saying before I interrupted myself. Billy’s song is a nod to the work of the imagination in fiction writing. Here’s a paraphrase of the last two lines in case I left you out there in the dark, “reality is only what’s inside of my heart”.

There are some genuine curiosities here. Remember the time pictures never lied? Those days are now stowed faraway in the dark and water-clogged basement of history. No thanks to the computer and two thumbs up to you tube. In fiction, it’s still true that pictures don’t lie. Strips of film flickering on the walls of our mind are never false, no matter how weird they may appear. Ever since the first moments I glimpsed the Spanish artist’s biography on Wikipedia, I find it difficult to quit his quotes and thoughts entirely. This one sort of brings the subject home,

Everything you can imagine is real. Pablo Picasso

The Fiction Highway doesn’t take you down Beyond Reasonable Doubt Avenue, yet it gives on The-Truth-The Whole-Shebang-and-Nothing-But-The-Truth Intersection.

I’ve never held much of a brief for reality, at least in my written work. All too often it (reality) is to the imagination what ash stakes are to vampires. Stephen King

Realism smolders the flames of creativity. Common sense cripples our imaginative ability. If it is your dream to thrive in fiction writing, quit playing on reality’s team. To be sane, level-headed, practical and logical as it applies to fiction is suicide. Being realistic is to be short sighted, reality at best is a distraction.

Good writing – good stories – are the imagination’s firing pin, and the purpose of the imagination, I believe, is to offer solace and shelter from situations and life-passages which would otherwise prove unendurable. Stephen King

A universe without walls exists within the boundaries of the individual mind and the key to this excitingly new realm is imagination. That’s the tangent where the river (imagination) leaves Oklahoma (reality) and never looks back, not as much as a passing glance. All the strings of weird thought wired up to create an atmosphere that is way beyond what is generally accepted reality yet not less real and of course, wielding power and influence over the physical.

The minute you sense those weird thoughts rowing downstream on the creeks of your mind, that’s your ticket. Take it. Run! And never look back.

Keep your pen bleeding!

Akpan

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Put The Fuel On It

In these days, the urge is pressing to be keen on what you do and to convey a measure of elegance into the practice of it. Outside is busting with millions of attractive distractions. Quite a few of these pests are almost worth the abandon of a life long career as a writer and to lay pursuit. "Almost", but not quite. And of course, you know "almost" don't count in the upward climb.

It is a fine line between idling and rusting. You may want to stack your writer resources on your way out because faster than you can see it coming, you'll be out like a candle in a storm. It's a 100% guarantee! Thinking you can switch in and out of the zone at will and at alarming irregularity is a signal there's a lot of soap opera history you haven't caught up on yet. On becoming a writer worthy of the name, anyway.

Consistency sets your bones afire as it does preserve your juice in a blanket of warmth when you have to make the little deals that take you off your writing. But, with the outward pull of enthusiastic temptations trying to trap your attention, you have a battle on your hands, a war you must win. Passion is the flare that ignites the dynamite. But, passion, on a personal level, is a process. I hardly make out that distinct quality but as product of an intense other. More on that later.

From another angle on a broader plane, you can only be consistent at something you have fallen for; something that really turns you on; works your genius and makes your consciousness spring each time it crosses your mind. I don't invite my dreams, but with the certainty of tides rising high, they will keep walking through the walls of my unconsciousness in all their arrays; the horrifying, the terrifying and the gross out. My muse does make uninvited visits too and I do try to the best of my ability to keep him entertained during the periods of his stay. Yet, I can and do make appointments with my muse. I must if I want to succeed as a writer. This idea has its own arresting clarity.

Inspiration exists, but it has to find us working. Picasso

There's a process at the helm of everything that is continuing. Passion as a rule, is not an exception. I view this like a sort of teamwork going on. Without consistency, passion is nothing but paperwork, it never comes to anything like a wild stab in pitch darkness. You just can't groom passion without consistency. It's a two-sided coin in spite of everything; consistency feeds on your passion and grows fat on the stimulus. Your passion is a drive, a hunger that comes with a twinge of appetite for consistency. Get up and get going, already. Once you find your itinerary, stick to it with passion. Be consistent at that one thing. Read. Research. Write and Read. Read ten times as much as you write.

Life is everything we plug into it. Our writing grows and matures if inspired. We actually thrive beyond elementary stages when our passion, touched by stints of consistent attendance at our writing tables, drives us into the heart of what we do. The impact eventually, turning us into human hand grenades.

When passion comes, with it comes creativeness. Guess an element of truth exists in the age-old writer slogan,

Write With Passion!

Keep your pen bleeding!