Writing and Henri Matisse

The way I write is an evolution--cycles and constant fixed thoughts, bursts and breaks renewed. I read an article about Henri Matisse’s working patterns being similar to an excavation, the kind that requires detail and tents to shield from the sun and little picks and brushes to hack, cut and bleed closer to the vision. Matisse will focus on an image and mirror it--reworking the focus as it’s reincarnated in blends of color and different styles. His work amounts to a series of paintings relaying alter egos of the same image. It’s a fully fleshed out process. It’s about realizing the core idea, getting to know the idea, but also recognizing it in transformations. It’s deciding the best way to express the focus.Which is the way I work with my writing. I’m attracted to translation because in another kind of way, it echoes my writing excavation. I like the idea of shifts and swings and detail and minuscule word replacements abruptly uprooting the original piece or thought. It means that the writing (or translation, or Matisse masterwork) is a million little stories each fighting for expression, a million fates and outcomes killing for their birth. It means stories make up the story. In my own writing process, I create halfling bits of thought and dissect--I play with wording, or a phrase, or a piece of a poem. I amplify and resurge that piece of writing into another work in progress, until I find its home. I experiment with which words pair with what meaning. I create, then construct. I never write a piece in one gust of inspiration. My finished writing is a rag doll made seamless.