Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Tuesday May 31, 2011 To Paint



To Paint
I pick up the brush
It drips oil paint
The still life is before me
A rather ordinary day
The famous light finds
Its' way through
The studio window

I do not feel like me
A stranger in my place
Holding my brush
Standing before my canvas

It is said
If you feel comfortable
Change your medium

It has been awhile
Since I held this brush
Mixed the paint
Drug the brush
Across the canvas
It is as if
It is the first time
A virgin... again

All that I know
All that I have ever known
All that I can remember
Is required

Now...
I have created some markers
I know some unwanted things

That is all

I will continue to
Hold my brush clumsily
Until I can do otherwise
Destination unknown

9 comments:

Blue Sky Dreaming said...

Perfect explanation of an artists journey before the canvas..."Destination unknown"!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Wow, so cool, Annell. You really made me feel the artist's uncertainty, delving into painting as if for the first time. I love "destination unknown". Let us see what you create!!

SandyCarlson said...

That every encounter may be the first encounter....

Anonymous said...

Annell, what a commentary on coming back to any type of art! I remember a time when I took months away from the piano and I sat there in front of the keyboard, a bit dazed. You captured this perfectly, and I loved it. Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/05/31/twofer-limerick-and-love-poem/

* said...

There sings such irony in this, and gentle humor, for I see your brush, your hand anything but clumsy, Annell! :)

PS: I came upon your Desert Poems series today on your other (artist) web site, gorgeous!!

Mary said...

Annell, I hear you in this poem. I've done some painting, but now it has been a while. I know if I picked up the brush again it would feel foreign to me. I probably, sadly, never will.

Steve Isaak said...

Good, relatable write.

Tess Kincaid said...

Oh, this is a perfect piece for me today, since I started to paint for the first time in 25 years. Yes, I felt like a virgin.

erin said...

there is more truth to creating ourselves over and over again than knowing the self and being done. there is more life like this too.

reminds me of Christopher's post inwhich he refers to lying to the self. you might enjoy the questioning. it's here: http://northernwall.blogspot.com/2011/06/calling-forth-my-light-reprise.html

xo
erin

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