The Beginning

It seems that the outcome of any artistic project is fundamentally dependent on the enthusiasm and vigor with which it is started. The spirit with which this start is imbued is decisive. For a bad or weak start, there is not much to be done, while a vigorous start can be extended by manual labor and simple discipline. That is why it is so important to do the ideation separately, at a time that precedes the execution. In this way, one can take advantage of the unsurpassable stimulus of those moments when the idea is ready and seems to explode.

Creative Work

Creative work essentially depends on two things: (1) the ability to stimulate, allow and grasp new ideas and (2) the ability to make the most of them. In the first case, we briefly have intellectual effort and attention, qualities that, even if unintentionally, are incited by the simple desire to create. In the second case, there is something more costly, and perhaps the biggest difference between the fruitful artist and the unfruitful one lies precisely in this: in the ability to put their ideas into practice, not letting them get lost and go as naturally as they came. This ability is simply the ability to act. From this it can be seen that creative work, in order to be effective, requires not only ideas, conceiving them and capturing them—something that can be done effortlessly—but it also requires a state of mind that can be summed up in a permanent readiness for action.

No Matter How Good Short Poems Are

No matter how good short poems are, and no matter how fond the modern mind is of them, they alone are incapable of the great poetic effect. The latter is only achieved when the mind reaches a degree of ecstasy that requires, firstly, complete absorption and, secondly, a certain number of verses. In other words: the mind needs to be immersed in the poetic atmosphere that will lead it on the upward movement. Then, verse by verse, concentration increases, the stimuli intensify and the great effect is already being built up. In short: for the peak to impress, it must be preceded by the climb.

Poetry Should Not Be Sung

We open the window and hear from the street the emphatic assertion that poetry should not be sung. And from the street they also say how it should be recited. So we reach for a random compendium of poems on the shelf. We opened it, thinking intensely that “poetry should not be sung”. To our misfortune, however, already in the table of contents we come across chants, ditties, hymns, songs, and we have to close it immediately before our brains collapse. That is so much rational thinking! From the street, we hear that someone who sings a poem sounds like a child. It is really impressive… It is only with a lot of effort that we manage to overcome this nonsense, when we finally realize the obvious: a child sings a poem because, reading naturally, he is driven to sing by the rhythmic structure of the verses. In short, he sings it because he has not yet been spoiled by any adult.