Songwriter, Author & Master Coach
Helping people to write their own tickets to success...

    
Dee Shipman  Dee Shipman  Dee Shipman
 

"Every song I have translated is well translated, the one who works on the very difficult songs with me is Dee Shipman. I know her telephone number by heart, and her fax. It goes back and forth - 'No! I don't like this word!' And she comes back and says 'Because you don't understand English!' So I have to convince her and she has to convince me, and the rapport is fantastic." 

- Charles Aznavour

 
"Of all the songs that Charles and I wrote for the original Plymouth and West End productions of 'Lautrec', this was probably my favourite. It captured so perfectly the assurance, and contradictorily, the self-doubt of the artist. In NLP personality type terms, it shows us Lautrec with an Away From, ie a 'glass half-empty' (though his never was!!) preference........ always seeing the dark side of life, the raindrops rather than the sunbeams; and an off-the-wall Mismatcher - someone who has to be completely unique: an Internal Extrovert, who needs people around to energise him and yet hates getting feedback, not giving a damn what anyone thinks, apart from the love of his life ......... but even then the Mismatcher takes over again, and in his life and his work screams, " Go to hell! I'm not you, I'm ME!" .

And I see the parallels with other creative forms, including writing. So as a foreword to the book of my lyrics, I transposed the lyric of Painting to a piece called, of course, Writing.......... even though my own Metaprograms - personality types - are Towards rather than Away From, and I am an Internal Introvert. However, I too am an off-the-wall Mismatcher............ and my personal belief is that that is the essential characteristic - because it provides originality - for any creative artist, whether painter OR writer! 

So here you have the chance to see both versions. 
"  

 

 

 


Painting
(Dee Shipman / Charles Aznavour)

To learn, discern, aspire 
To the most perfect paintings anyone has known 
To have no God or master but the paint alone 
To shock established views and then impose your own 
Defiant 

To choose, to use, and seizing 
To tame the muse of art may take a hundred tries 
‘Til naked spaces spew their colour and surprise 
To soil the virgin canvas, violate the eyes 
And reason 

To penetrate your own imagination’s mist 
To let abstraction art disguise the realist 
Expose the bad old habits with a thousand ploys 
And with a stroke destroy them 

The will to kill the tainted 
Invent another structure you alone control 
Make something new that you create replace the old 
Do only one thing passionately, heart and soul 
The painting 

From debt, from sweat, from anguish 
From doubt that sometimes blurs then surfaces again 
A dagger point that’s planted with its special pain 
Within the cloistered suffering where you remain 
And languish 

To bleed, to feed the candle 
To fill the canvas shadows with the tint of tears 
Superimpose your vision over all your peers’ 
To dare the risk of failure, ignominy, jeers 
And scandal 

To catch a subject’s essence pure as it was born 
Explore without respite the background and the form 
Yet when the work’s complete and you can do no more 
You’re ravaged by unsureness 

To bear, to swear, attaining 
The summit of your art and energy and dream 
Project your demons on the swollen canvas screen 
To give dead subjects life that only you have seen 
While painting 
The painting 
For painting……… 
Mourns the past like a scream

 

Writing
(Dee Shipman / Charles Aznavour)

To learn, discern, aspire
To the most truthful writing anyone has known
To have no God or Master but the words alone
To shock established views, and then impose your own
Defiant

To choose, to use, and seizing
To tame the wanton Muse may take a hundred tries
'Til naked pages spew their colour and surprise
To soil the virgin paper, violate the eyes
And reason

To penetrate your own imagination's mist
To let abstraction rhyme disguise the realist
Expose the bad old habits with a thousand ploys
And with a stroke destroy them

The will to kill the trite, and
Invent another structure you alone control
Make something new that you create replace the old
Do only one thing passionately, heart and soul:-
The writing

From debt, from sweat, from anguish
From doubt that sometimes blurs, then surfaces again
A dagger point that's planted with its special pain
Within the cloistered suffering where you remain
And languish

To bleed, to feed the candle
To fill the paper shadows with the ink of tears
Superimpose your vision over all your peers'
To dare the risk of failure, ignominy, jeers
And scandal

To catch a story's essence pure as it was born
Explore without respite the background and the form
Yet when the book's complete and you can do no more
You're ravaged by unsureness

To bear, to swear, and fighting
To realise your work and energy and dream
Project your demons on the pages or the screen
To give dead subjects life that only you have seen
While writing.............
The writing..............
For writing......... 
Mourns the past like a scream!

 










All lyrics and all texts are copyright Dee Shipman and no unauthorised use will be permitted
©  2010 www.deeshipman.com