Poem created by a person who lived in a Supported Residential Accommodation ( SRS) (Victoria Australia - Art Access Victoria)
I can't put the name to the poem as I am sure of her name. I do not feel it is a breach of her copyright as the poem has several versions and changed constantly. I am unsure of her name as I only met her once and she changed the spelling of her name constantly. The recording of her poem came about as she yearned for someone to write down her story or fragmented memory and it was spurred on by the idea that the artists at the SRS were going to exhibit at local Library. Being noticed, recorded and part of something bigger was important for these artists as they often didn't have any contact with anyone and were very isolated. I think this is why she felt she urgently needed to have her story recorded. She came up to me as I was conducting the art classes at the SRS with variations of the poem as if she was remembering fragments and was altering as it came into her memory. There was a sense of urgency to have someone record her memory. She changed each line slightly and the poem changed continually and it was a very fluid process
*The process was like a drawing that was plotted very loosely and there was a pentimento line that was erased and re-altered constantly to find the right connections.
*The process was like a clay sculpture where the form was felt and found and was slippery and changing constantly and considered the whole.
*The poem is fragmented and assembled like a cubist painting (large gaps in space and it was multifaceted). The poem was derived from a fairy tale or song and I think it is a fusion of romantic fragments that also alluded to historical references. But due to the fragmentation and re-working, it has its own life.
*It is the urgency in the poem and the need to record it that ties it together. It reminded me of Kandinsky's reference to 'necessity'.
The memory and the power of the poem was very strong to her and she needed a break and ran off into her room. As she remembered the memory and she altered a line in the poem she came out of her room and she asked me to record it.
I felt compelled to at least record it on my blog for her.
The lines are in order.
The poem
I have the music of your song
But I don't know the words
Once the gypsy handed
Hear the flutist knights
But he stole your soul
Now enchanted and bewitched
And dance endless of
Gene of a captive heart.
