she wiped the dust from her heart
opened a pale shade of blue
and mixed it with acrylic white
to paint the sky
she was a painter
she could draw
mixing black and white to make gray
blending colors to make them shade
however,what she truly wanted to be
was so much more
the paint that came from her own heart
her own creation of this magic and fragile capability to create something that came from her genius potential
and stayed forever on the blank canvas that she sat before
brush in hand, paint blended and thick
with passion she left visible strokes of gold lining each cloud
and began again
with frustration made it all white again
used every imperfection and flaw to make it more
to make it real
to take what she felt and plaster it onto the canvas
she wanted to be an artist
not just a painter
not just a girl with a hobby
but of unquestionable beauty and talent
to create in herself and in her work
wow. this is really cool. i like the way u made the comparison between art and just painting pictures on blank canvases. i'm an artist too (not a very good one) so i get everything that ur saying and the part when u described the paintings made perfect sense to me. good job and thanx for the comment on nonexistence
The flow towards the end of the poem was great. It rapidly sends the reader into a high with the imagery work. More could be done before the finale though. I particulary disliked this line: "her own creation of this magic and fragile capability to create something that came from her genius potential" It read strangely. In fact, I'd do away with the whole paragraph altogether. It'd make the poem flow better. At least in my opinion.
This sounds like somebody I know...myself. In a way, but not entirely. I feel this way on occassion when writing and playing my music. I find this piece, in a way, heart warming, and then again it turns my stomach, because it makes me think that very way and I have an urge right now to do something about it. I guess that just comes from my twisted mentality...Anywho, this was beautiful, and I thank your for writing it. It's kinda soothing.
This is absoluty a beautiful, touching piece of written art. It's one of the best pieces of free verse I've read on this site up till now. I read it over and over again and I liked it more and more with each read. I loved the almost musical quality it had. The only sugestion I could can think of is: Please keep writing.
Wow. I know this sounds crazy but this made me cry. It reminded me of the excerpt I read once by Virginia Woolf about how all had to be perfect for the master piece to be completed. Your imagery was absolutely lovely. You are indeed talented, girl. I think I have one of your ealier pieces as a favorite. But every line was crisp and purposeful...I know our comments are to be of more substance but this piece has blown me away...Congrats dearie.
I think what all artists strive to do, is put themselves in their work. We want to put emotion on the canvas, not just paint. But so many people paint just to paint, which isnt bad, just a little sad. Art is poetry made visual, and every artist takes that leap, that risk, of putting themselves int heir work. THe flaws are what make it so much more real and true. Fantastic job here. Rae
Very beautiful. I like this. This is true art, written with true passion. It relieves me that it's not one I feel compelled to give a lecture on.
she wanted to be an artist not just a painter not just a girl with a hobby but of unquestionable beauty and talent to create in herself and in her work art
I also like these lines, I think they express what any artist thinks. I don't want to just be someone else with a hobby, I want to be recognized and appreciated.
brush in hand, paint blended and thick she began with passion she left visible strokes of gold lining each cloud and began again with frustration made it all white again used every imperfection and flaw to make it more to make it real to take what she felt and plaster it onto the canvas
I was also struck by this. That attention to detail and desiring of absolute perfection is what makes it art. This was a beautiful poem. Keep it up
Good Stuff Kid! I really liked the mikkichickiwawa feeling you do here! Artists are their own worst critiques at times. I think more painter should watch Bob Ross. You ever watch him? He dont care...he puts happy lil trees all over the place and then gives them friends and then he puts rocks here and there and gives them friends and then the mountains and the sky and the bushes...its just cool. Anyway, if you couldnt tell, your write reminded me of that. Good ol' Bob Ross (RIP).
I think that we all cover our "gold linings" for fear of criticism. We try to blend everything in our life so that like everyone else we're just the many shades of gray. Whether trying not to stand out or trying to make a statement we're usually only concealing our real selves from the world. Thats why i love poetry, with it you are freed of the confines of reality to be what you want or who you are. I really enjoy this poem. My favorite part is the last six lines: "she wanted to be an artist not just a painter not just a girl with a hobby but of unquestionable beauty and talent to create in herself and in her work art"