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Poetry Magnum Opus

Today


fdelano

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I'll paint more than

 

a hundred Monet scenes

 

at least, of blue mountains

 

and slow black water in deep

 

channels of my river.

 

 

My pallete will need more

 

than a thousand shades

 

of green for foliage

 

on banks of overhangs

 

that coat and hide mystery.

 

 

I'll use a putty knife

 

to slather on piles

 

of oils for textures I can

 

feel and hold with my eyes

 

until I start again, tomorrow.

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I like this much but why am I sad after reading it?

 

"Thousand shades of green".....ummmm.....wow. :)

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The physical side of this leads me to think of those oil paintings that look like a mess of swirls and dabs until viewed from a distance. Aesthetically it gives me the impression of a certain satisfaction: a kind of vocation. Of waking in a much loved home-land each day and seeing its different facets. Never to tire of trying to understand them and perhaps even to absorb that beauty. Enjoyed Geoff

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The improbability of the poem catches me- a hundred Monet scenes, daily? Me thinks this is a metaphor for seeing, and possibly aging eyes, that paint in the missing scenes;-) Brought up thoughts of the extra coned mutants the tetrachromats recently confirmed. More than a thousand shades of green, indeed. (Not a tetrachromat, but I wish;-)

 

Juris

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If one doesn't paint one's own, how would one survive?

Even if one can only paint with words . . .

from the black desert

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Nice thoughts, GK. I try to do both, but the eyes are more talented than the tactile efforts.

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And you would be able to do either or both, without the deck, is my guess. So ingrained, exactly the same, everytime, except different, unique, yes? Enjoyed so much, Franklin.

 

t

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Thanks, Tam. All forms of art are--to me--thoughts, whether expressed through canvas, paper, squiggles on screens or musical compositions, all different. I can easily paint 100 scenes in a day through my eyes, but would need a hundred years to lay them with paint on linen. Yes, rambling again ...

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David W. Parsley

I like the poem, though reccomend the final word not form its own (and final) stanza. I also like the new avatar, Paco. There is that dapper aviator himself!

 

Keep Painting,

- Dave

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Muchas gracias, Dave. Accepted your recommendation. Never thought of myself as "dapper." More like Dumbo, the flying elephant. ;) The white forehead is from always wearing a "wheel hat" in the Texas sun. Not painting every day is not an option.

Paco y Stein

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Have been neglectful in thanking all who found something in this pondering. I did one painting of my youngest son and a friend float fishing the Shenandoah, thinking all the while, "I'm going to run out of greens." Geoff, Van Gogh painted in the style you mentioned of coming into focus from a distance, because he had severe astigmatism. My own painting of the river gives the viewer a different perspective when viewed from different angles, an accident I discovered when finally framed. A friend of mine once told me that the only way you can get an artist to finish a work is to shoot him. ;)

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The mention of Monet brought back memories of my freshman days in a technical college. I was studying visual arts (painting and photography) on the side as I dislike engineering courses. Also my visits in the Boston MOMA. The contrast of 'green' and 'black' brought with me different associations - the destruction of environment, the rebuilding but only in the domain of art, black to green, in visuals (feel and hold with my eyes) rather than reality. I must have been reading to many oil spill news lately.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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I thought fourteen shades was a lot ... but this is a much different and quite philosophical poem. No nits, my friend. I enjoyed it very much.(PS - I'm also enjoying the new photo. When was that taken - '66 or '67? We all look so promising when young. I hope you get a hefty military pension for the next sixty years!!)

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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Hi, Bren. Glad to see you still active. That pic is from my torture stint in OCS, 1961. I had just turned twenty-five, fairly old in that crowd. The good ones die young, huh?

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The mention of Monet brought back memories of my freshman days in a technical college. I was studying visual arts (painting and photography) on the side as I dislike engineering courses. Also my visits in the Boston MOMA. The contrast of 'green' and 'black' brought with me different associations - the destruction of environment, the rebuilding but only in the domain of art, black to green, in visuals (feel and hold with my eyes) rather than reality. I must have been reading to many oil spill news lately.

Your memories are quite fitting for this, Joel. The Shenandoah was poisoned with mercury back in the days of building nose cones for the shuttles. When it was discovered, the government allowed it to go on as vital to the space program. Every time it floods, the river bottom is stirred up and the mercury settles a little further downstream. We get fish kills every few years, and a ban on eating the fish has been in place as long as I've lived here. Only the top of the river is still beautiful--sort of like life.

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