I had a friend, Art Deco, And he had his design That people once embraced, but now To history consign It's hard to see your friends go down To absence, or neglect -- But he's still cool, Art Deco, The last time that I checked
Tag: Art
The Artist Sees, or Maybe Feels and Knows
As day stirs into wakefulness and light,
The artist sees, or maybe feels and knows.
By brick-and-mortar, sky, and cryolite –
The water passing inland as it flows —
The artist sees, or maybe feels and knows?
The process is mysterious and wide —
The water, passing inland as it flows,
Knows how this works, and is not mystified:
The process is mysterious, and wide.
The color in the prism of the mind
Knows how this works and is not mystified,
As freedom flows in circles, unconfined –
The color in the prism of the mind
As day, stirs in to wakefulness, and light:
As freedom flows in circles – unconfined –
By brick-and-mortar, sky, and cryolite
(The photo is of a city called Omis, in Croatia-Dalmatia, and is by a photographer named Landd09. – Owen)
To share is human:
Assumptions (14)
I look at paintings and I think
How full and wondrous it must be
To see or dream, and then to make
That vision a reality.
How I would love, with colored brush,
To bring a world inside my mind
To canvas for the world too see,
And leave this drab gray one behind —
But then recall, with some chagrin,
My father was an artist who
Put brush and paint away for good
When he was only thirty-two.
For though he loved to paint, he was
In a too-common situation:
What he could see, he couldn’t match,
And so stopped out of sheer
Frustration
To share is human:
Young Dancers
all life is either
dancing, or
the rests in between
© Bezik | Dreamstime.com – Five Young Dancers In The Same Dance Costumes, Resting Sitting O Photo
(“Young Dancers” – 8-3-2015)
To share is human:
3 Beliefs – 2
Joy comes interlaced with pain
Everywhere we are, or go;
Golden childhood tales contain
Match girls dying in the snow —
All we think to say, or feel,
Frozen days by sunlight graced —
Bricks and mortar of what’s real:
Joy and pain are
Interlaced
To share is human:
In Art’s Defense
There are many who have the proclivity
To claim art has no real objectivity
And it’s true, but it seems rather trivial
To condemn as not-real the convivial
To share is human:
watercolor wandering
the first step is to be awash
in everything you’re feeling,
the second’s to become unhinged,
with all your senses reeling,
then finally you let it out,
your griefs, your fear, your aching —
with watercolor wandering,
release is in
the making
To share is human:
A Child Drawing
There’s no one more alive, absorbed –
At least, that’s known to me –
As when a child is drawing;
Pure creativity
Their line and color choices
Are not convention’s slave:
They draw because they want to
And don’t have to behave
To share is human:
Tiles
Entering for the first time, we saw a room, big and new, that smelled of newness and spare furniture; its most conspicuous feature was a series of brightly colored tiles covering most of the back wall. These followed no pattern my eyes could make out, but I was fascinated by them: it was as though, even then, my heart knew that art itself resides in the stories we imagine as much or more as any story explicitly told.
