The Dancer stood.
Then moved toward the floor.
No need for another.
The music moved The Dancer.
Along with the others.
In confident directions.
There is no need, for I or hand, to draw a picture in the space provided, the watchman declares. But he’ll do as told, because that’s what he does.
Last call, oh I doubt it. As she has dipped her brush into the colours of dawn. And her quill drips of lover’s blood, but not lovers in that way declared dear departed Leonard. On the page, on the dance floor canvas one finds her aubade. O’ mercy. For love of beauty, the stroke of passion. For flight of fancy and the colour of love. The pigment sizzles. She’s never alone when she paints.
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Taken aback to far corners. You know the reason but I’m at a loss at how you come to know. There is an explanation and you hold all. She asked.
It”s one thing to paint and another to write. Maybe I see themes where others cannot
Yes, I see. However, You mentioned dear departed Leonard…the significance to you would be?
I was referencing Leonard Cohen, specifically a line from Sisters of Mercy.
So I now understand, she breathed. You see a friend, Leonard, just died. I was not thinking of your Mr. Cohen, but rather my own Leonard. Thank you for explaining. I am no longer mind-bent
( well up to a point) over how….
The reffectiveness of life’s light is constant amber glowing in memories then it turns to the ash of our subconscious . And that kind of stuff surfaces in mysterious ways in art. That is why I keep my metaphors in front of me so as to keep an eye on them….last call .
“I think that one wants from a painting a sense of life. The final suggestion, the final statement, has to be not a deliberate statement but a helpless statement. It has to be what you can’t avoid saying.” Jasper Johns Yes…
Oh you Johnheads.
His quote makes me think, perhaps that’s why so many art schools, even famous ones, fail at teaching students how to be creative. Instead their focus is is on making artist , which I think is ass backwards.
Oh this is beautiful. I love the vibrancy of the painting. Your poetry made me think of how spectacular that blossom is, but so ephemeral, as too soon it will tumble to the ground and be absorbed into the earth for round two.
Thank you so much. Your description is so appropriate for both my own personal interpretations. You are intuitive! Again, many thanks.
Of course, DK, there’s a story there. Thank you for listening. R.
WOW! You have started my day off right..time to dance.
WOW…another perfect day! It just doesn’t get better than this….Thank you, Sharon for your over whelming encouragement. Music…feeds the artist soul. Yours, too?
Hi…yes music is healing.
“In confident directions.”—Love that line. May we all head there. Lovely artwork too.
Yes, Carrie….”In confident directions…..” I can see the queue from where I stand. Ah…there you are! Standing along side me! Perfect!!
Love the colors! But the idea of a last dance is sad. Hope all is well.
Goodness! All is well, aFa. Spring has sprung. Roses are blooming. Last dance not a personal statement. We haven’t had our Tango exhibition…so this can’t be THE last dance. Right? Right!
You make our world a livelier and more colorful place! Thank you.
You’re welcome, Hugh.
And you? Always making my day sparkle with encouragement.
Thank you for that.
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