[ENFP] ENFP playground

[The Outsider]

I chose the second answer in that poll, though it was a stretch.

 

[lamp]

roll down the windows, roll up the volume

 

[lamp]

Uytuun . . . tell me about your multitudes.

 

[Uytuun]

Call me...Sheherazade.

When I see your avatar, I think lamp oil...it reminds me of days gone by when I would copy Latin verses by the lamp light in the old monastery. I spilled the ink 4 times in 2 hours on average, but the end result was a simmering well of word-worlds. I invented some poems as well and hid them between a couple of Catulluses. What kind of poems would you say?

 

[lamp]

You need to get whatever fragment the dog is the signifier for to move back within your husband's grasp.


And by taking part in the symbol, I don't mean completely indulging it either. On the contrary, it helps a lot to have someone on the inside that can guide you into not letting it overwhelm you.

I am enjoying your words and phrasing this afternoon.

What are some things you associate Sheherazade with?

 

[Uytuun]

Thank you. Enough psychoanalytical literary analysis will make you talk like that.

Mmm, right now with a book I wrote a paper on. It's called Restlessness...there's a woman and she's hired an assassin to kill her who keeps her talking throughout the book...she talks towards a death that turns into life, so she reverses a reverse Arabian Nights.

What about your multitudes?

 

[lamp]

I have not read any Catullus, however I hope your work was much less grounded than his. I am curious if abstract love poetry ceases to be love poetry at some point. Or, perhaps true love poetry is hopelessly abstract.

 

[lamp]

Oh, them :] *tries to look inward and instead looks over shoulder*

Last week I re-read Loren Eiseley's The Star Thrower, which briefly addresses evolution and tells the story of a man who comes to cast washed-up starfish back into the sea, as the shell collectors around him move the distressed organisms inland.

Also had a fruitful discussion involving mirrors, in Ventrilo last night. The Whiteboard in the bonfire is part of what resulted from this conversation.

I ended up going through some photographs today, which got me wanting to direct my time in that area again.

 

[Uytuun]

I have not read any Catullus, however I hope your work was much less grounded than his. I am curious if abstract love poetry ceases to be love poetry at some point. Or, perhaps true love poetry is hopelessly abstract.

(I was making it up inspired by The Name of the Rose...mediaeval monasteries)

Wooo...what do you consider abstract love poetry? Why would it cease to be love poetry? I think you can arrange a lot of symbols/things into a very meaningful form (ok, so then essentially it's art in general and not poetry anymore, although language is a stretchy term)...numbers, tree branches...I suppose that what is required is a form of symbolic order and concept.

Why would a series of puddles dug into the sand and filled by the ocean intended to evoke love not be love poetry?

And then there's the role of interpretation...who decides what a piece of art is or isn't? The maker, the receiver?

I'm highly abstract with feelings and poetry, maybe a little too abstract...I like Hölderlin, but he's a German poet.

Yes, I edit like a crazy lady. Sorry.

Evolution is awesome. So are mirrors. Could you do without reflective surfaces for the rest of your life?

 

[lamp]

I think you can arrange a lot of symbols/things into a very meaningful form (ok, so then essentially it's art in general and not poetry anymore, although language is a stretchy term)...numbers, tree branches...I suppose that what is required is a form of symbolic order and concept.

Why would a series of puddles dug into the sand and filled by the ocean intended to evoke love not be love poetry?

And then there's the role of interpretation...who decides what a piece of art is or isn't? The maker, the receiver?

I'm highly abstract with feelings and poetry, maybe a little too abstract...I like Hölderlin, but he's a German poet.

Yes, I edit like a crazy lady. Sorry.

Could you do without reflective surfaces for the rest of your life?

I can seriously consider doing without reflective surfaces (in the literal sense) for the rest of my life. Driving is the main concern. Oh, world.

The editing is more interesting than anything. I can never quite remember how the post used to be, the last time I read it.

I looked up Catullus to try and give your work some frame of reference, and was disappointed to learn that he was known for writing love poetry. I would have been much happier to read that he wrote poetry, perhaps about love. The more expressive things get, the more they 'break'. Poetry becomes art, at some point art drops into 'expression'. Expression, perhaps, is a place where entities can both observe the same items. Our physical forms are limited; otherwise we could merely become expression and observe one another. I suppose this is actually true, if we assume expressed items to be part of the individual.

I am now thinking about identity, the maker, the receiver, the observer. Is 'art' an extension of the maker's identity (Does it also have a discrete identity of its own? I think yes.)? If so, does it get incorporated into the identity of the receiver? The observers? I also consider the maker to later become an observer of their own work, not that they cease to be the maker.

I realize I like the editing dynamic. It is a spiral of understanding and clarification and feels more reminiscent of conversation flow.

 

[Uytuun]

I can seriously consider doing without reflective surfaces (in the literal sense) for the rest of my life. Driving is the main concern. Oh, world.

The editing is more interesting than anything. I can never quite remember how the post used to be, the last time I read it.

I can't decide if I'm offended or admire your insight into my multitudes.

I don't know...never seeing your physical shell...it would be an interesting experiment.

And I don't drive.

 

[Uytuun]

I looked up Catullus to try and give your work some frame of reference, and was disappointed to learn that he was known for writing love poetry. I would have been much happier to read that he wrote poetry, perhaps about love. The more expressive things get, the more they 'break'. Poetry becomes art, at some point art drops into 'expression'. Expression, perhaps, is a place where entities can both observe the same items. Our physical forms are limited; otherwise we could merely become expression and observe one another. I suppose this is actually true, if we assume expressed items to be part of the individual.

I think you misunderstand...my first post was a fictitious scenario (it says so in another post...but maybe it got lost in an edit). It was kind of like a scene from The Name of The Rose (film or book). I've never actually sat down in a monastery to write by the light of an oil lamp. Sorry. *puppy eyes*

I read Catullus in highscool, but I barely remember him. I used him because he was a Latin author and the monks in monasteries transcribed a lot of Latin writers.

I don't think I've written a love poem ever. I've written very hermetic and associative poems expressing feelings during feely times. I rarely write creatively anyway...something in me resists it (for now)...and I stick with analytical writing (analysing other people's writing)...but I do like Hölderlin, the German poet I mentioned.

CONFUSION

The more expressive things get, the more they 'break'

How do they break? Or should the question be what do they break?

 

[lamp]

my first post was a fictitious scenario

I don't think I've written a love poem ever. I've written very hermetic and associative poems expressing feelings during feely times.

How do they break? Or should the question be what do they break?

Ah, I understood that comment to mean that your work was inspired by The Name of The Rose, not that your post was :]

Well, if intense expression breaks in some ways the form of the work, it is possible you have written a love poem, depending on how your feelings were directed. I am thinking along the lines of, I start writing a love poem, and my poem shares various characteristics with other established love poetry. Is it possible that I will need to break conventions and drop certain (shared) characteristics in order to fully express myself? Poem on a webpage -> handwritten poem on paper -> handwritten poem with doodles, and so on.

edit - that is more of a progression of poetry becoming visual art. I meant, I might need to stop directly addressing love and turn to another subject, perhaps in order to make or emphasize a point. But the point would have to come back to love, I think, so . . .

I know nothing of Hölderlin.

 

[Uytuun]

Ah, I understood that comment to mean that your work was inspired by The Name of The Rose, not that your post was :]

Well, if intense expression breaks in some ways the form of the work, it is possible you have written a love poem, depending on how your feelings were directed.

I know nothing of Hölderlin.

Hmm, you've laid bare my content-focussed ideas because it never even occurred to me that a poem might be considered a love poem or not a love poem only because of its form. That's interesting. I am definitely more content-oriented than form-oriented...a limerick expressing love is a love poem to me. Do break conventions...they wouldn't be conventions if they didn't hold to promise of someone breaking them. To me it seems natural that inspiration should have the power to bend the form of expression at will. It's an interesting thing to ponder...I mean you had those writing factories where gothic novels were produced that simply had to exhibit all the conventions of the genre, but nothing more, so it does exist. But those are widely considered inferior. It's very interesting...real art so the general concensus seems to be is the domain of the inner expression more than it is the domain of the outer rule.

Do you write?

OMG, you've turned into an edit-whore too. Shame on us.

I EDITED it because it's what all the cool kids do these days.

 

[lamp]

Hmm, you've laid bare my content-focussed ideas because it never even occurred to me that a poem might be considered a love poem or not a love poem only because of its form.

Do you write?

The editing is necessary to advance.

I do not write, really. Infrequently I stuff nice things into content entry fields but that has been about it recently. I do hope to write an autobiography-like-thing in the next few months. I might consider it the volume of my crusade.

Form may have been the wrong word, and I may have argued myself in a circle here: I think I was envisioning a love poem that does not actually address love at some point. That does not make sense though . . . no matter how extensive the tangents, they would all relate to love somehow.

edit - I had the idea of the 'breaking' physical form (written poetry to written and visual poetry-art, for example) and was trying to relate or apply that idea to the subject of the work. So, love 'breaking' into something else.

 

[Uytuun]

The editing is necessary to advance.

I do not write, really. Infrequently I stuff nice things into content entry fields but that has been about it recently. I do hope to write an autobiography-like-thing in the next few months. I might consider it the volume of my crusade.

Form may have been the wrong word, and I may have argued myself in a circle here: I think I was envisioning a love poem that does not actually address love at some point. That does not make sense though . . . no matter how extensive the tangents, they would all relate to love somehow.

edit - I had the idea of the 'breaking' physical form (written poetry to written and visual poetry-art, for example) and was trying to relate or apply that idea to the subject of the work. So, love 'breaking' into something else.

Another emotion? There are many love poems that break into hate.

Anyway, it's way past bedtime in my part of the world.

Nice talking to you, hope you have fun in your warm whale waters.

 

[lamp]

glad you had a nice time in the playground :]

 

[Sacrator]

Call me...Sheherazade.

When I see your avatar, I think lamp oil...it reminds me of days gone by when I would copy Latin verses by the lamp light in the old monastery. I spilled the ink 4 times in 2 hours on average, but the end result was a simmering well of word-worlds. I invented some poems as well and hid them between a couple of Catulluses. What kind of poems would you say?

lol maybe because whales were usually harvested for there blubber for lamp oil?

 

[Uytuun]

lol maybe because whales were usually harvested for there blubber for lamp oil?

Obviously.

 

[alcea rosea]

INTJ's are conquiring the ENFP playground!