The Star in the Skylight

My first blog post for The Poetry Jotter, reflecting on how and why I write

By Andrew Jamison

"So, I think it's fitting that I mark the first post of this blog by writing about this little light and what it means..."

I sit at the kitchen table to write this, usually at night time, when my wife and two children are sleeping, and, if I look up on a clear night, I can see a single star through the skylight directly above me. The more I think about it the more significant this star seems, not least in terms of what it might represent. So, I think it’s fitting that I mark the first post of this blog, The Poetry Jotter, by writing about this little light and what it means, this little light that won’t leave me alone.

Inspiration

Firstly, despite the cloud cover tonight, I can’t help but feel like the star represents a kind of guiding light, accompanying me through these solitary late-night writing sessions. So, not only does it represent the guiding light of poetry, the muse, the creative spirit, but also serves as company. It’s a little light burning above me, urging me to continue, and even on cloudy nights I know it’s still there.

Continuation

The fact that the light of stars takes many years to reach the earth has always fascinated me, and I can’t help but be amazed by the fact that, if it is Polaris (the North Star), the light I can see from this table was cast 431 years ago. So, in this sense, the star represents the delayed transmission of literature, as well as its longevity. A poem or story written now might well be read by someone 431 years from now. Just maybe.

The Poem, Itself

The skylight itself interests me as, after all, it is a portal to viewing something above, something higher, something beyond our world and the domestic scene of the kitchen, in my case. The rectangular frame of the skylight frames perfectly, on a clear night, this single star. I can’t help but compare the rectangle of the skylight to the formal constraints of a poem. The skylight is framing the star, focusing my attention on the star. And the star itself is piercingly clear, sometimes obscured with a passing cloud, but often strikingly clear. So, in this case, I think of the star as representing the clarity, the kernel, the soul or the spirit of a poem; we have the frame of the skylight (the formal constraints of the poem) and within that a burning heart of an idea, the star. I aim for a poem to have a star at its heart, to burn for as long as time itself, even if its transmission to the reader may be delayed, or obstructed at times by a passing cloud. Even if the star burns itself out. Until the star burns itself out.

Artistic Process

Identifying the star is not always easy. It involves focus, concentration, patience and adjustment of the eyes sometimes to make it out through some cloud, or indeed the reflection of the glass. Indeed, this evening, I’m trying to look through the reflection of the glass to try and see a glimmer of the star, but I can’t. There is something in the way of this which is reminiscent of the artistic process of writing, and searching for the right, deeper, higher idea which can sometimes be obscured by the business of the earthly world, or the world reflected back at us, or simply stowed away behind cloud. It doesn’t mean it isn’t there, though. However, there are other times when I think I see the star, but that’s not what it is.

Daydream

More often than not, the star offers me a distraction. I stop, I look up and I wonder about it. So much of the artistic process is distraction or daydream. There is good distraction and bad. Checking the skylight for the star is a good distraction, a distraction of daydream. 

The Writer

Is writing an affliction, a passion or an obsession, or all of the above? Whatever it is, it can be an immensely lonely task. So, in another way, the star in the skylight is a metaphor for the writer. The star gives out its light, but doesn’t know if it’s been received. How similar is that to the role of a writer? Don Paterson quotes Antonio Porchia: “I know what I have given you; I do not know what you have received.”

A Time to Write

As a parent of two young children, it’s nigh-on impossible to find the peace and quiet required to write during the day. So, the night has become my friend for writing, indeed it’s become necessary. And indeed, too often, late nights spent here writing or scheming about writing (usually more of the latter). So, the star in the skylight speaks of the time in which I write - the night.

Memento Mori

Looking up through this rectangle of glass, at this patch of the universe it has singled out for me, at this little persistent white dot which has already been burning for 431 years, it’s hard not to be hit by the fact that it will continue to burn when I am not here at this table anymore. And in that, it’s hard not to be checked by a sense of perspective, about the enormity of time and the universe, and a sense that maybe what you write will just become, as Shelley writes in Ozymandias, part of the ‘lone and level sands stretch(ing) far away.’

Hope

And yet, up above the world so high, it’s also worth shooting for. 

Humility

And yet, there is also the realisation that this one star is among countless other stars. Within and without the relatively small rectangular frame of this skylight there are constellations upon constellations, stars upon stars. This star I see is just one star. There are older stars and newer stars, all burning with their own ferocity and energy, reaching different people in different ways, in different times, in unexpected ways. A writer is one writer among constellations of others, whether they are (or think they might be) the equivalent of Polaris or not. The unknown, unnamed or undiscovered star can be just as intriguing, intense and captivating. We should always be attentive to other stars in other galaxies, the ones beyond the most well-known.

Andrew Jamison is a writer and teacher who has published three poetry collections with The Gallery Press. You can buy signed, first editions of his books in paperback or hardback at his online bookshop, or browse his writing subscription services here.