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omnipoetics:poetic_autoethnography [2025/04/02 17:51] – [Create in Order to Live] adrianaomnipoetics:poetic_autoethnography [2025/04/02 18:57] (current) – [Create in Order to Live] adriana
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 Autoethnography is a qualitative research method that combines elements from autobiography and ethnography in order to reflect on lived experiences and to understand the broader cultural, social, or institutional context.  Autoethnography is a qualitative research method that combines elements from autobiography and ethnography in order to reflect on lived experiences and to understand the broader cultural, social, or institutional context. 
  
-In Dr. David Hanauer's article, "Poetic Writing Research: The History, Methods, and OUtcomes of Poetic (Auto) Ethnography," he describes the background of autoethnographic writing,  
  
-" 
 ===== Autoethnography & Omnipoetics ===== ===== Autoethnography & Omnipoetics =====
-Autoethnography is a vehicle towards seeing omnipoetics in action. A symposium of the whole, that includes the individual and how they interact and create the world.+Autoethnography is a vehicle towards seeing omnipoetics in action - a symposium of the whole, that includes the individual and how they interact and create the world.
  
 <blockquote> <blockquote>
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 Part of reading the Serpent and the Fire, is learning how to take all of these poems, to listen to the life-givers singing the song, and to translate that into your own creation. The indigenous tribes thought of life as a circle with each of us filling our role within this, if there is no beginning and no end, then the individual creating right here and now, is the vehicle to learning to sing the song. There are no high or low forms of art and poetry, there is not a standard of a work being 'good' enough, there is simply the act of creation, and the act of creation is the way to internalize and live an omnipoetic life. A life that is filled with the experience of living alive, in reconnecting to technicians of the sacred and looking backward to look forward, to experience life as an individual, but to translate that into the collective, to become a part of the symposium.  Part of reading the Serpent and the Fire, is learning how to take all of these poems, to listen to the life-givers singing the song, and to translate that into your own creation. The indigenous tribes thought of life as a circle with each of us filling our role within this, if there is no beginning and no end, then the individual creating right here and now, is the vehicle to learning to sing the song. There are no high or low forms of art and poetry, there is not a standard of a work being 'good' enough, there is simply the act of creation, and the act of creation is the way to internalize and live an omnipoetic life. A life that is filled with the experience of living alive, in reconnecting to technicians of the sacred and looking backward to look forward, to experience life as an individual, but to translate that into the collective, to become a part of the symposium. 
 +
 +As the Nahuatl poets sing the song, the song echoes through the generations, Whitman sings the song of himself, and we can continue to sing the song through our own poetic autoethnography. 
 +
 +==== Omnipoetic Autoethnography; an attempt ====
 +
 +
 +An example in my own life came from reading a poem by E.E. Cummings (546), while reading his poem in SaF, I decided to check out a collection of his works from the library. When my dad saw the E.E. Cummings book, he said, "My favorite poem is an E.E. Cummings poem," I asked him which one it was before I began to read, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." He first heard the poem during a painting course that was a part of his MFA. The professor read it outloud and had them sketch different images and ideas that came into their head from the reading. For most of the poem, my dad said, he didn't really know what was going on, but there was one line that stood out, "Do I dare/ Disturb the universe?" He took a large piece of cardboard, leftover from milk carton printing that was donated to the art school since they didn't use the end of the rolls, and he began to sketch himself. He sketched himself peering down with an upward angle to the viewer, a large version of him overlooking the viewer of the sketch. Later he came back to finish the work, and gathered some of his art school friends to help him hang it. The professor's office was located next to the studio, with his windows facing towards the overlooking space. They hung this painting of my dad looking down from an almost god-like perspective, pointed towards the professor's office. The next time the professor came in, he was greeted with this overlooking image, the only thing visible from the windows of his office. As my dad walked away after telling me this story, he said, "There was a time in my life when I had something to say." 
 +
 +<poem>
 +For the Artist;
 +
 +flight from one mind to another 
 +across an invisible current 
 +the waves wash in & pull the seaweed
 +back to sea 
 +water on glass
 +magnifying the space between 
 +the stars, the gap wanting to 
 +transform into a bridge
 +progress ticking alongside
 +a minute hand clicks to track 
 +soul drifting sailing through 
 +sea, looking for the guidance 
 +clouds condense
 +light leaks like a faucet drip, 
 + drip 
 + drip 
 +click      click         click 
 +the drops of light are enough 
 +to keep from dying, dehydrated
 +life lingers longer 
 +drip drip 
 + drip 
 +light only in dew drops
 +perched upon morning sunbeams 
 +a field of glossy grass
 +waiting for another drip 
 +the waves work 
 +bashing the vessel from 
 + either side 
 +condense the soul into 
 +a small ball of what was 
 +
 +— there was a time in my life 
 +when I had something to say 
 +
 +time tucked into spots 
 +remnants and reminders 
 +left upon the ship
 +a pen that explodes
 +leaving stains     on 
 + the soul 
 +—
 + there was once a time —
 +he says —
 + I say 
 +time is now 
 +
 +do I dare disturb 
 + the universe? 
 +he taught me 
 + how. 
 +
 +
 +</poem>
 +
 +When my brother and I were younger, my dad stayed home to take care of us while my mom worked at IUP as a professor. He has never worked as an artist in my memorable life-time. While he doesn't work as an artist, I've watched him express the artistic eye in many different forms throughout my life. Most recently is the construction of a disc golf course that he designed and continues to work on during every available non-inclimate weather day. That doesn't stop my wishing for him to make art again, and even though he expresses it in different ways, I see the paintings of my early childhood, from before I can remember, and I can't help but wish the paintings continued. A poem for my dad, and a poem for me - do I dare disturb the universe? he taught me how. 
 +
 ===== Create in Order to Live ===== ===== Create in Order to Live =====
  
 Throughout this course, I have found myself rediscover what is like to feel alive, to learn how to play, to learn how to encompass child-like joy that provides the sustenance of life. While reading various poems throughout SaF, I found myself driven to write poems and to paint watercolors. I learned how to encompass an approach to a world that is particularly difficult to live in. I felt my feelings and thoughts echoed forward and backward, hearing others sing the same song that was playing in my own mind.  Throughout this course, I have found myself rediscover what is like to feel alive, to learn how to play, to learn how to encompass child-like joy that provides the sustenance of life. While reading various poems throughout SaF, I found myself driven to write poems and to paint watercolors. I learned how to encompass an approach to a world that is particularly difficult to live in. I felt my feelings and thoughts echoed forward and backward, hearing others sing the same song that was playing in my own mind. 
  
-The reading of SaF, I believe, is incomplete without letting yourself and giving the space to play freely. The way to live and breath the book, the way to omnipoetics in action, is to give yourself the time and ability to create. Creation in order to live, and creation to truly feel and understand what the individual is within the symposium. +The reading of SaF, I believe, is incomplete without letting yourself, and giving the space, to play freely. The way to live and breath the book, the way to omnipoetics in action, is to give yourself the time and ability to create. Creation in order to live, and creation to truly feel and understand what the individual is within the symposium. 
  
-Here are some things that I did while reading the anthology that made me feel like I was truly encompassing and hearing the "life giver's song," while also continuously journaling, writing poems, and creating artworks (Remember, there are no high and low forms, so even though my modern brain wanted to criticize my lack of painting ability or my poetry writing skills, it is not the right question to ask yourself, "Is this good enough?" but rather, the purpose and the beauty comes from the act of creation.): +Here are some things that I did while reading the anthology that made me feel like I was truly encompassing and hearing the "life giver's song," while also continuously journaling, writing poems, and creating artworks (Remember, there are no high and low forms, so even though my modern brain wanted to criticize my lack of painting ability or my poetry writing skills, it is not the right question to ask yourself, "Is this good enough?" but rather, the purpose and the beauty comes from the act of creation) - 
  
   * Walking barefoot through mossy grass, feeling the mud squish between my toes while watching the sun set slowly behind a chestnut tree that I planted in middle school, now much taller than me, I see the time in both of our lines.    * Walking barefoot through mossy grass, feeling the mud squish between my toes while watching the sun set slowly behind a chestnut tree that I planted in middle school, now much taller than me, I see the time in both of our lines. 
-  * Staying outside when I feel the air turn, watch the clouds roll in, and become completely and utterly soaked, to feel myself getting watered as the plants get watered, to melt into the earth, to realize the ability to dance in the rain - to truly dance like no one is watching +  * Staying outside when I feel the air turn, watch the clouds roll in, and become completely and utterly soaked, to feel myself getting watered as the plants get watered, to melt into the earth, to realize the ability to dance in the rain - to truly dance like no one is watching {{:omnipoetics:img_8420.jpg?nolink&200 | feeding bird from hand at Blue Spruce}}
   * Taking bird seeds to Blue Spruce and to contemplate the thousands of people that must have had to have fed them before me for them to be so willing to perch upon my hand, to contemplate my existence the same way I do theirs.    * Taking bird seeds to Blue Spruce and to contemplate the thousands of people that must have had to have fed them before me for them to be so willing to perch upon my hand, to contemplate my existence the same way I do theirs. 
   * To swing, to feel the air on my face, to feel the way the pump of my legs back and forth brings me higher and higher, to feel the joy from doing something so simple, yet so freeing.    * To swing, to feel the air on my face, to feel the way the pump of my legs back and forth brings me higher and higher, to feel the joy from doing something so simple, yet so freeing. 
-  * Meditating on a tree stump, sunflowering my head towards the sky, to feel the light and warmth on my skin - to feel the interconnected between us all, to realize and understand that my connection to the earth and to mother nature is only a fraction of what they felt, and yet, it is enough to remind me of the sacred and to allow the breath to live inside of me. +  * Meditating on a tree stump, sunflowering my head towards the sky, to feel the light and warmth on my skin - to feel the interconnected between us all, to realize and understand that my connection to the earth and to mother nature is only a fraction of what they felt, and yet, it is enough to remind me of the sacred and to allow the breath to life inside of me. 
  
  
  

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