Poetic Ooze

17 March 2015

A few months ago, I began writing phrases and unbaked thoughts on scraps of paper and taping them to my wall. The result is a cluster of chaos. An orphanage of ideas unfit for another medium.


Tweet Wall


These things normally appear on notebook columns, napkins, and Twitter. They’re undeveloped seeds for something or nothing. I compiled a mess of them, called it poetry, and entered it into a writing contest at my university. The reader will probably think I’m an idiot, but I hope she’ll appreciate one or two of my “poems.”


I think its good, clearing this mental clutter. I’ve found a few gems in the mess that could be useful at some point. I think brain-dumping is good, especially for creative or artistic pursuits. Like brain-storming, it’s fun and feels good. It’s a bit self-indulgent, but there’s something about the tactile process. Rather than tweeting off-the-wall nonsense, writing on cut-up notecards and placing them on a physical wall is therapeutic. It’s fun to look at on occasion, and I may do this project again.


For now, the project is paused/temporarily finished. Minimalism got the best of me, so I cleared the wall to work on something else. Heck, painter’s tape can turn anything into a tabletop.


If you’d like to try it out, here are some self-explanatory directions:


1. Find an open surface.

2. Cut up some paper in a variety of shapes and sizes. I used colored notecards and scrap paper.

3. Start carrying scraps of paper and a pen(cil). Whenever you have a thought, write it down. At the end of the day, add them to your collection.

4. Keep a roll of painter’s tape, a pen(cil), paper, and scissors near your surface. As you affix ideas from the day, you’ll probably generate new ones too.

5. Consider using yarn to connect related ideas. I started, but then had this idea:


Yarn is a Schizophrenic Medium


6. Watch it grow. Don’t censor yourself: whatever comes, let it come. Don’t limit yourself to words, include sketches and doodles too.


Give it a try. Maybe you’ll secrete poetic ooze?