Can or can’t see the word for the trees …

“Trees” (1913) I think that I shall never seeA poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prestAgainst the earth’s sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day,And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wearA nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose…

Sunday poem on a Saturday

Lighthouse Keeping – Seas pleat winds keen fogs deepen ships lean no doubt, and the lighthouse keeper keeps a light for those left out. It is intimate and remote both for the keeper and those afloat. Kay Ryan (from my sketchbook)

Roses; epilogue

My rose text is done. Strange how one can work for weeks on a text which ends up at 567 words. But that’s how it is. For me, anyway. I have written this text on commission, it’s going into an exhibition catalogue. The text is written to a series of large-scale rose-drawings, pencil drawings in…

Roses

reading up & sketching down; roses in art (cont.)   Virgin Mary and Jesus is, one could be tempted to say, a standard motif in Western art. However, most portraits depict the virgin looking at her child. In this picture, by British/Austrian Marianne Stokes, Mary looks up and out, as if to introduce her young child…

The Sound of a City

I have been here two times befor, and still find NY to be a fantastic city! But still, I am tempted to side with Thoreau: I think that [people who live in the city] deserve some credit for not having all committed suicide long ago. For an art-lover NY is full of wonderful surprises –…

Sea-change

How to write about nature in a way that makes the reader feel the landscape as if she was there; wandering through it … absorbed, possessed – ? Here is Jean Sprackland: Countless times I’ve seen the shore hewn and hammered, scattered with whole tree trunks, steel pipes, oil drums, concrete fence posts, dead sheep….

A talent for concealment and revelation

A breeze was blowing, and I could smell salt, seaweed, and sun-bleached shore. I knew, once again, that I’d found home. –Sue Hubbell, Waiting for Aphrodite I never tire of the coast because it’s never the same twice. The tides and the weather change its physical shape, and they bring different things to look at….

Fern studies

A visual diary – my visual diary – is, like any other diary, mainly a recollection of ordinary things; fragments of everyday life, normal oddities. When out and about I’m not looking for the outstanding or exceptional, but for the extraordinary within the ordinary. Like for example a fern unrolling a young frond. There are…

Into … & out of darkness

Barry Lopez says: real beauty is so deep you have to move into darkness to understand it. I sense a truth in Lopez’ words, but at the same time I must admit I’m not able to fully comprehend the meaning of his enchanting postulat. But this is what I do know: when in darkness – look for beauty, because beauty can (strange…

Fools Like Us

It’s time to re-read a favorite poem Any fool can get into an ocean by Jack Spicer Any fool can get into an ocean But it takes a Goddess To get out of one. What’s true of oceans is true, of course, Of labyrinths and poems. When you start swimming Through riptide of rhythms and the…