Copyright: All artwork/content protected under ©2007-2011 Lynne Ciacco

All content herein copyright © Lynne Ciacco

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Intuition, Collage Poem

Here's another collage poem, not meant as art but as an exploration/discovery process.  Using a couple of magazines and just tearing out images and words that resonate with me at the time of making the collage; seeing what sort of message comes through.  Final step, rearranging/altering the words a bit to make a poem.


Use your instincts
as a catalyst:
Forget destinations,
be guided by glimpses
of the sacred
behind the mundane.
See beauty;
travel light;

Is there any particular image within this collage that resonates with you? 
Do you know why?



  1. I'm going to adopt those words as lyrics for my personal theme song.

  2. "Guided by intuition",it's so important.
    Your images and words make me smile,thank you.
    Have a lovely day!

  3. Stickup,
    I have a suspicion that's pretty much how you lead your life anyway, but I'm honoured to have my word group turned into a personal theme song. Rock on!

  4. Forest Dream,
    It makes me smile to think my words and picture have made you smile thousands of miles away. Magic!

  5. Neat. How does it work? Words first or image? Have you tried cutting out random words and images and scattering them to see what develops?

  6. nouvelles couleurs,
    Thanks so much. I didn't plan the words,they just came out that way, so it's a bonus!

  7. Ginga,
    The method is...whatever happens, happens. I think I begin with an image that I like, then build up around it and just randomly choose words & other images that appeal to me and fit in with the overall look. There's no preconceived idea but it develops as images and words are chosen...quite randomly, though some might choose to say "intuitively." You, though, Ginga, might refer to it as a cat and mouse game.

  8. The words travel and destinations definitely pop out for me, as does the promise of new (and warmer) places. No surprise since I'm half out of my skull with cabin fever (which in turn is no surprise since it's March).

  9. tattytiara,
    Yes, I hear you! Travel and warmth--a warmth other than the fever of the cabin variety! I'm going to Vancouver for a few weeks; maybe not much warmth there yet but at least it'll be green instead of relentlessly white.

  10. I like the distant valley because in makes me mindful of my attraction to the proverbial "greener pastures", looking at the "big picture".

    Sometimes the scope seems more compelling than the dertails, humanity in its masses is easier to love than a single person.

    Do I worry that staying close and present will make me as immobile as a beached dory, a perch for ravens?

    There is beauty in the immediate, in the close. This is spoken by my intuition and not my fear.

    The gallop to the furthest horizon is a void dance.

  11. DCW,
    Very thoughtful, personal reflections here. I find it quite amazing that my humble collage could provoke such deep considerations in another. Most gratifying!
    I'm like you in the looking to greener pastures, but tend to focus on the few rather than the many, when it comes to people, and lost in details rather than seeing the big picture. I wonder if this can be reduced to a female/male way of seeing things. Check with Driftwood for a second opinion.

  12. The hands - particularly the fingers gently resting on the lady's back. At first she appears to be alone, but wait - there's someone sharing the view with her. I believe one could say I'm detail oriented.

  13. I LOVE the poem; how do you find just the right words? My favorite image would have to be the raven, of course.

  14. Driftwood,
    Well, that is certainly an eye for detail! Yes, there is a hand on the lady's back...isn't that wonderfully symbolic--"at first she appears to be alone" (I hadn't thought of it in quite that way before). Wouldn't it be lovely to believe that we are all held and lovingly guided.

  15. Sharmon,
    I don't find the words--they find me! Really, I just randomly pick a few words that jump out at me and glue them down, quite without reflection, and somehow they make sense in the end. Messages from the subconscious? The raven is so full of mystery and mischief, isn't it?