My poetry changed again this morning - to a degree

The Poet with Paint

The artist meditates on the future movement of the fluid paint on the watery flatness of the 140 # d’arches paper.

Her mind grasps the concept and she begins with a thoughtful touch here and there. Her brain must forward her ideology presence indulged in the coloured points ever so gently.

The paint forms tiny rivulets of wisps of soft colours spreading ever so thinly in a direction of strength and survival. The colours have a desire to stay fresh and transparent so that the image is carried in a heavenly direction. There is a hint of breeze and dandelion fluffiness and prickly leaves tugging at the edge of the sky. The paint spreads over disappearing boundaries. The paint blends –yellow with blue, red with yellow, blue with red and the primary colours dance in delight in a circle around the secondary colours.

A heaviness of anxiety is pushing itself to the surface but then travels away and the light of life floods the page.

Chestnut brown and ivory black meet and form the curled shapes of a tortoise shell. Cerulean blue surrounds the curves of the calla lily and the yellow spadix speaks of the promise of new plant life. The idea of animal arrives and stays alive on the white of the paper. The animal is not Robert Bateman-like. The animal contains within itself an implication of fun and fantasy---size is not measured by scientific research. The frog is supersized and the cat companion rides on the back of the Aldabra tortoise.

Do the elements fit the mosaic of image and idea?

Does the colour capture your attention?

Does the form and texture unite the character and characters?

Is there personality in the plant and animal life?

Does the paint pigment explore the landscape north and south, east and west?

Does the illusion of time and space arrive and leave, arrive and leave, arrive and leave?

Does the spirit of whimsy mingle within the expression of the artist’s desire??

Are you inside the painting?

Are you here?

Are you there?

Are you confusedly everywhere?

Or are you forever outside and distant and indifferent?

Come.

You are invited.

You are welcome.

The tortoise calls you. The cat inquisitively wonders about you. The frogs awaken from their sleepy hibernation and with a bit of cynicism sneak a glimpse of you standing ever so patiently in the gallery.

Come and stay awhile.

Come and play awhile.

Nora Fraser

April 19, 2011

some revisions:

The Poet with Paint

The artist meditates on the future movement of the fluid paint on the watery flatness of the 140 # d’arches paper.

Her mind grasps the concept and she begins with a thoughtful touch here and there. Her brain must forward her ideology presence indulged in the coloured points ever so gently.

The paint forms tiny rivulets of wisps of soft colours spreading ever so thinly in a direction of strength and survival.

The colours have a desire to stay fresh and transparent so that the image is carried in a heavenly direction.

There is a hint of breeze and dandelion fluffiness and prickly leaves tugging at the edge of the sky.

The paint spreads over disappearing boundaries. The paint blends –yellow with blue, red with yellow, blue with red and the primary colours dance in delight in a circle around the secondary colours.

A heaviness of anxiety is pushing itself to the surface but then travels away and the light of life floods the page.

Chestnut brown and ivory black meet and form the curled shapes of a tortoise shell. Cerulean blue surrounds the curves of the calla lily and the yellow spadix speaks of the promise of new plant life.

The idea of animal arrives and stays alive on the white of the paper. The animal is not Robert Bateman-like. The animal contains within itself an implication of fun and fantasy---size is not measured by scientific research. The frog is supersized and the cat companion rides on the back of the Aldabra tortoise.

Do the elements fit the mosaic of image and idea?

Does the colour capture the viewer’s attention?

Does the form and texture cause an intake of breathing and silent respect?

Is there personality in the plant and animal life?

Does the paint pigment explore all possibilities of shape and form and texture?

Does the illusion of time and space arrive and leave, arrive and leave, arrive and leave?

Does the spirit of whimsy mingle within the expression of the artist’s desire??

Are you inside the painting?

Are you here?

Are you there?

Are you confusedly everywhere?

Or are you forever outside and distant and indifferent?

Come.

You are invited.

You are welcome.

The tortoise calls you. The cat inquisitively wonders about you. The frogs awaken from their sleepy hibernation and with a bit of cynicism sneak a glimpse of you standing ever so patiently in the gallery.

Come and stay awhile.

Come and play awhile.

The Painted Poem

The artist with Paint

The artist meditates on the future movement of the fluid paint on the watery flatness of the 140 # d’arches paper.

Her mind grasps the concept and she begins with a thoughtful touch here and there. Her brain must forward her ideology presence indulged in the coloured points ever so gently.

The paint forms tiny rivulets of wisps of soft colours spreading ever so thinly in a direction of strength and survival. The colours have a desire to stay fresh and transparent so that the image is carried in a heavenly direction. There is a hint of breeze and dandelion fluffiness and prickly leaves tugging at the edge of the sky. The paint spreads over disappearing boundaries. The paint blends –yellow with blue, red with yellow, blue with red and the primary colours dance in delight in a circle around the secondary colours.

A heaviness of anxiety is pushing itself to the surface but then travels away and the light of life floods the page.

Chestnut brown and ivory black meet and form the curled shapes of a tortoise shell. Cerulean blue surrounds the curves of the calla lily and the yellow spadix speaks of the promise of new creativity. The idea of animal arrives and stays alive on the white of the paper. The animal is not Robert Bateman-like. The animal contains within itself an implication of fun and fantasy---size is not measured by scientific research. The frog is supersized and the cat companion rides on the back of the Aldabra tortoise.

Do the elements fit the mosaic of image and idea?

Does the colour capture the viewer’s attention?

Does the form and texture cause an intake of breathing and silent respect?

Is there personality in the plant and animal life?

Does the paint pigment explore all possibilities of technique?

Are you inside the painting?

Are you here?

Are you there?

Are you confusedly everywhere?

Or are you forever outside and distant and indifferent?

Come.

You are invited.

You are welcome.

The tortoise calls you. The cat inquisitively wonders about you. The frogs awaken from their sleepy hibernation and with a bit of cynicism sneak a glimpse of you standing ever so patiently in the gallery.

Come and stay awhile.