We have a book upstairs
In our foyer, in fact
“When Rugby was Rugby”
A game played by the Welsh and Irish
Springboks and All Blacks, all men
Of blood and guts, a ferocious sport
Now practiced by 90-pound girls
In delicate costumes at private colleges
With private tattoos to show what they do
The times they are a-changing
I know, because I was there
I was also there at the photographer’s peak
Learning of lighting and exposure
Of dark rooms and red lights
Developing, stopping, printing
Reality, to negatives, to positives
By my brain’s control
Under a microscope, maybe
Or a Leica or Zeiss on safari
Life and death through one shutter
Analogue became digital overnight
A single image exchanged for a hundred
So ninety-nine could be deleted
Outside the control of the brain
A computer enhances and
Changes what the light
Had transiently recorded
Everyone now a smartphone picture taker
How do the professionals cope
The times have really been changing
I was also there in the writing mode
Accomplished authors wrote,
From Shakespeare, to Lewis, to Twain, to Ferguson
Read, read, and read again
The crafted words of experts
But now, de-regulation
No control, few editors
Copy editors, sub-editors out of jobs
Blogging is the profession now
Say what you like
Ignore apostrophes, commas and logic
Few rules, apart from
Highly stretched boundaries in unsocial media
The times have profoundly changed, never to return?
But who am I
To criticize these changes
No, I merely reflect on the facts
The point is, my friends
No Luddites are allowed here
If we are not to die of tradition
We must embrace the craftsmen of the future
Instagram says everything
The visual world can be copied and transmitted at once
But not easily created
The written word can be plagiarized
But not the original thought
The craftsmen in wood, clay, metal, glass, resin or cloth
Put the brains and hands together
Which no Johnny-come-lately can do
Brains and hands
Communicating, coordinating, orchestrating
Creating that which is new
Innovation is not a poetic word
But it is at the nucleus of craft
Starting like an embryo
Following fusion of two different cells of thought
Perhaps those of color and shape
Movement and light
Texture and size
Real and virtual
The concept is crafted in the brain
Surrounded by the charged broth
That purposefully moves around up there
The synapses and axons
Start to quiver at the birth
Of a masterpiece
And the hands begin to twitch
The wheel, the flame, the lathe the furnace and brush
All get excited as
The concept flows to all senses
Smelling, feeling, seeing, even hearing and tasting
The cauldron of creativity
Winston-Salem, North Carolina, USA, June 2016
