Watercolor, 7 x 8
140 pound Kilimanjaro paper
A favorite poet Billy Collins, poet laureate in America from 2001 to 2003 has a new book out, just when I need it, an oasis in the Sahara of my soul, not writing, not painting..
Susan bought the book for me today, "Ballistics," with her graceful handwriting inscribing it to me as a surprise gift, and this hard-nosed old newspaperman began reading, searching for answers, and astonishment, which is Collin's' gift.
Much to share here, but his muse infected my muse, to write and paint. Here are lines from his "The Great American Poem":
..."this is a poem, not a novel
and the only characters here are you and I
alone in an imaginary room
which will disappear after a few more lines... .
"I once hears someone comapre it
to the sound of crickets in a field of wheat
or more faintly, just the wind
over that field stirring things we will never see."
I've not tried to paint poetry before...sound to light, but I wanted to try because I inhabit that imaginary room with him, as I hope you do with me when you look at this.