Oil on Canvas
A poet? I am not— I may paint like one, when the muse is graceful or shows volition or more often, as not, sympathy to my guided brush.
“Creativity and authenticity never go out of style, they are timeless traits.”
Rod Jones Artist
Painting gives much to the essence of one’s spirit, but reading; and I mostly suspect, writing poetry, is spiritual ecstasy enwound in rapturous delight. If I could only write what I paint— then there would be an “OZ” because, because— it would be magical to be creatively in tune with both disciplines. For every brush stroke, or at least for every group of strokes brandishing the same pigments, there would be a rhythmic word coupled with other rhythmic words creating a beautiful and metaphoric lyric, rune, song, or verse, all creating rondelets, sonnets, triolets, villanelles, or maybe haikus, senryus, and tankas. I for one, can imagine the versification of painting to poetry, the two disciplines incarnating abracadabra like in the most enchanting and alluring forms. If I only could, if I only could— I would be the master behind the curtain. Slinging paint and words in the most plummy and yammering way. If I only could, if I only could— I would be the one swinging on a star. But alas, that pitful road is long, confounded with the mastery of the elusive authenticity we all must struggle for.
My very talented poet, writer and photographer friend @f_thornton is one who is blessed with creativity and most importantly authenticity. His published books grace my library.
Another I admire, a poetess @marionettehour she’s an emerging talent. I read virtually everything she posts; her youth gives her a fresh and insightful look at life along with the heartache she is experiencing. Visit their IG, see and read their posts.
“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.”
Leonardo da Vinci