Two weeks into National Poetry Month, 8 minutes into our 12-hour prompt, and 236 more lines inspired by 7 fairy tales:
Two weeks into National Poetry Month, 8 minutes into our 12-hour prompt, and 236 more lines inspired by 7 fairy tales:
Step One: Translating the Translated, Part 2
The key to viewing failure as an option is to bear in mind the difference between that which is possible and that which is probable; choices. A possible outcome is just one of one of any number of outcomes deriving from choices yet to be made. A probable outcomes is an outcome toward which you are already headed due to choices already made.
When we embrace failure as an option we not only view it as a possibility that can be avoided, but we also lift its veil of grand finality by holding in our minds the knowledge that even after we “fail” there are more choices to be made and chances to be had. This brings us to the issue of decision fatigue - or ego depletion - wherein just thinking about the infinite puzzle pieces of possibility can so exhaust us that we are deterred from even trying. This, in turn, shows us that the probable makes for a great aid to the possible.
Every move we make is a decision made is a little more of our creative fire spent. By simplifying certain parts of our daily routine we can free up headspace and mental energy for more important things. Having a life uniform and planning meals for the week are just two examples that can make a difference.
One week into National Poetry Month, 4 minutes 4 seconds into our 12-hour prompt, and 184 lines of 46,800 inspired by 7 fairy tales:
Step One: Translating the Translated; Part 1
Through the inevitable co-mingling of nature and nurture we are educated, imbued with our own singular work ethic, and - at some point - given the opportunity to stand on our own. Sometimes, those who fall under the jurisdiction of nurturer - family, teachers, friends of family, even our own friends - aren’t wholly nurturing and drain the power of our agency without our even realizing it. After so many years of reciting facts and copying figures and following in others’ footsteps, it can be difficult to know exactly what we should do when left to our own devices.
In the second paragraph of the story, our attention is turned to the youngest son of the recently-deceased miller. We are told through the narrator’s voice that he is upset, and he himself has the first line of dialogue in the story in which he explains his difficulty and leaves an opening for the cat. Since actions speak louder than words, and speaking is a kind of dialogue, his speaking his thoughts aloud says more about him and his situation and the possibilities that surround him than anything a narrative voice might say about him; and, so each of the three parts of this second fairy tale paragraph is translated into its own academic paragraph:
As children being denied appetite-spoiling foods or made to take naps, we define freedom as being a grown-up and making our own rules. When we finally reach adulthood we find ourselves confined by larger, societal rules. Every day we see others who thrive within such conventions while we remain in our near-constant state of disbelief regarding our own adultness.
This is made more difficult by our incessant need to compare ourselves to those peers who seem to glide effortlessly from schooldays into adulting without skipping a beat. Our need to connect or fit in is a basic tenet of our humanity and the driving force behind why we try so hard to follow the exact steps to success walked by our peers. It’s what we did as kids and so - because we survived childhood - we try to do it now.
However, when we who are aware that “something is not right” just try to continue on as we always have, the smallest fallback is immensely disheartening. It drives home this idea that we are completely unprepared for the world of adulting and will be doomed forever if we cannot figure out how to do what everyone else manages to be able to do every day. Our only hope for redemption is to embrace failure as an option.
Currently pulling double-duty as the "About" portion of the project page
I’m writing an epic collection of poetry
I’m not entirely sure why except that I got the idea for this project and I cannot for the life of me let it go ... ever.
There will be one line of verse for every second in a twelve-hour period. Why? That’s a long old story that started with a movie, got warped by a job hunt, and then cut in half by the grace of God.
Every poem will be based on a fairy tale (starting with the Brothers Grimm as translated by Ralph Mannheim), and every line will be five syllables long (to match the phrase "once upon a time").
Let’s talk a little about numbers
Did you know that the second-hand and the minute-hand meet 59 times every hour? The equation to find the meetings is:
S=(60M)/59
Or that the minute-hand and the hour-hand meet 11 times in a twelve-hour trip around the ol’clock’s face? The equation for that is:
M=(60H)/11
I know these things because the information is available all over the place online. Know what isn’t available? The number of times the second-hand meets the hour-hand every twelve hours.
The equation for that isn’t available either. Not unless you go to an old blog of mine to which I have not intention of linking so I’ll just tell you the hard-won answers I figured out back on a day I spent in bed and in my jim-jams even though it was way too warm for jim-jams and I needed a shower and the too-warm jim-jams were not helping.
The second-hand and the hour-hand meet 719 unique times every twelve hours and the equation for that is:
S=60((60H)+M)/719
Why these numbers matter
At 46,800 lines of verse that’s at least 2,128 pages measuring 4x6 inches with one-inch margins. That’s a bit much for a single volume.
So, the eleven meetings of the minute-hand and hour-hand will be the final line of the final poem in each of the resulting eleven volumes of poetry, while all the other meetings (second-hand and minute-hand, second-hand and hour-hand) will mark the ends of every other poem in the collection.
This should break up the collection into eleven 200-sh-page volumes of about 130 poems each (with line counts ranging from 1 to 60).
But, why? Because I’d love to.
