Tuesday, June 26, 2012

My nose; the green; van Gogh's Irises

my nose
inches from the brushstrokes
of a master. . .
and yet I'm alone
in my own time and space

red lights, January 2012

                   the green
               in van Gogh's Roses
               vibrant enough
               to be supernatural. . .
               a man just weeks from death
                  
                  red lights, January 2012               
                                                                               
van Gogh's Irises
arising 
from brushstroked ground
the depth of his
perennial blueness

Sixty Sunflowers, 2007

I end up making the across-town trek to the museum by myself. It's been many years since I've been there, and the facilities have nearly doubled in size. Midmorning on a weekday: the main parking lot is overflowing, yet oddly I'm the only one roaming the rooms of this particular special exhibit. That is, except for the watchful eyes of a guard, who I guess needs to ensure I don't stuff a work of art into my purse. Still, I manage to get as close to the paintings as possible without actually touching them. Dust-quiet, the only sounds are the conversations of old masters.

*Link to Roses.* *Link to Irises.*

2 comments:

  1. These are wonderful, Janet, and work so beautifully together. I especially like "perennial blueness"--great metaphor. Sadly, your link to "Roses" did not work.

    --Jenny

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  2. Thanks, Jenny! I'll try redoing the link. Am glad to post "blueness" here; there was a typo in the original pub'd version (an extra "the"), so hopefully it reads better now.

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