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Every thought
Every dream
Every unfilled act
Was there on the canvas
Wet and mingling into coherency

Purple dominated and pink protruded out into something like frosted space

Ice crystals formed over the entire painting and eventually climbed the walls of the studio forming wet places around the windows
Dripping down closer and closer to the floor

The paint on the walls near the sash turned to soft pastels
And the room began to hum
And the paint began to dry

The sun rose up and hovered
Above the centroid of the floor
And clarity reigned for a localized day
Or the lifetime
Of an artist


About wherearetheheros

just someone my mother might know

6 responses »

  1. What a cool poem for all the artists! 🙂

  2. like the way you described their paintings
    somehow they sound like plants
    growing up against the wall
    they sound alive

    most of time, while i do watercolor
    the color changes too while it’s dry
    they became doomer than i planned
    hah but that’s ok

    what are the crystals in the poem? so interested~~~

    just curious about everything related to paintings

    you are really picking up lots of momentum in drawings!
    people can feel the excitement in your strokes for always~!

    • Yesterday I worked a very long time.
      During part of the day we were running a static GPS session.
      I got my friend to drop me off at one location and he took my truck back to guard the other unit.
      While I waited I wrote and drew this. I became engrossed in the poem and then suddenly I was aware that it was getting darker and I was very cold and without a coat. – that is where the ice crystals came from 🙂

      I WAS excited when I did that drawing. THANKS SUMMER! !


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