empty easel
dust filled air
drifting past an open window
dim evening light
casts its shadowy beams
across an empty easel
palette dried
colors still vivid
beneath the gathering of dust
where is he?
this man
a fearsome curiosity
almost eerie
his presence felt
yet unseen
only his ghost
stands watching
waiting
for another child
to peek through the door
to dare step inside
this mysterious place
this empty gallery
walls bare
yet filled with the essence of images
long past, long gone
but…
there stands his easel
…waiting
dee garner
march 19, 2004
Author notes
This is inspired by a memory of this scene as a very small child....peeking through the open door of the mysterious old artist who used to live near my house in New Mexico, his easel sitting empty and seen through my childish eyes and mind. I couldn't have been more than three years old when an older girl in the neighborhood coaxed my sis and I to go with her to this old artists house. She told us he paints pictures and dared us to go inside, the door standing open. What I've described in the poem above is what I remember feeling and seeing at the time. circa 1940
Written March 19th, 2004
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very nice poem here dee, i think i have read it before, certain parts of it hit my mind. i love the soft tone and the colours and the bananas dancing, hang on lol there were no bananas, i must of been dreaming
seriously though, very beautiful
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I think this deeply expresses how truly alone artists sometimes feel.
Sometimes being gifted with such a large imagination and such vast possibilities for creation comes with a price.
And many of us feel that, how each time we write or paint another piece of our shell falls away, another hour, another day lost to our art, but I guess that is all part of being a creative person.
We sometimes must suffer in order to be able to live fully and create with our entire being dedicated to every line or every brushstroke.
Wonderful work.
much love,
James
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Inspiration comes from so many sources in so many guises...I liked the perspective of the empty easel standing there in a foreboding, yet challenging posture, awaiting one to step forward and accept its challenge to create...
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excellent
I had an Art Teacher that lived in the same complex as I did in Arizona. She had a lot of wonderful things in her place and I used to go there and spend hours playing chess, and doing projects. She was actually a salvation from home for me.
Wonderfully spoken my friend! -
Must be the title, dragging me in everytime lol okay I am wandering the words with my pen and paper, mmm yes I'll draw that bit, and that eeek! Did you leave that bucket there on purpose? Each time I read, I delight
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Strokes of genius
I always open doors to places that others may not want to go...but its nice to be invited in for a change. Eloquent and beautifully painted. -
Very Good
Dare I or dare I not to enter this place. Sounds like a good place to see. This is great. Love the way you write. -
i thought then i had read this before, was nice to read it again i lose track of where i have been so often
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This is so lovely, the imagery makes it so deeply sad, really. I don't think I've ever read a poem that made me just sit and sigh like that.
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love this, especially the way you use the art references
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Great poem! I see what you mean about that other one being a differet style, it really is. This poem has a great used of words. The background goes well with the poem and gives it a great feeling. Well Done.
#~SOUPY~#
xxx -
An interesting piece here. I could imagine looking through the filtering dust...almost sense the chill, the sense of anticipation. Well done.
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Beautiful memory Dee. So nicely retold and so imaginative. Great job.
Sag -
wonderful...
Hey sis,
This is very good and I can understand why a child would not need to go there, would not want to go there, but would need and want to see what was inside that was so forbidden. I don't remember any of this but after reading it I know I've been there. You make it very etheral, scary, haunting, and so very beautiful. A place to lose yourself in...Keep writing about us and I will just print it all out and have your side of "our story." -
Before reading your author comments, i thought i was reading a story of a woman left standing in a home where family had long since left and a man...husband, i suppose...had possibly passed on...the painter. Oh well, lol...i was VERY WRONG! But this really is a beautiful piece. My favorite read this morning. And after reading the author comments on the piece, it made it even more enchanting.
UB
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excellent
Dee this is gorgeous and thanks for the authors comments explanation. I think this is my fave of yours now. Wow.
Desiree
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This is a delightful read catz
I can see you clearly peeking through the door... and the empty easel without the artist is sort of haunting.. or maybe it was the suspense of being caught that I felt.. A lively write and I enjoyed
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well done
Perhaps he is waiting for someone to bring him to life with a stroke of the brush? A great piece of writing! For once a background that doesn't distract from the words! Enjoyed this..thanks! -
excellent
Tjis is good. Enjoyed it. Keep them coming. Haunting -
This was eretheal almost haunting
The images you evoked in this one
Like Renne said you could almost see the dust motes swirling in the room
This is superb as always
Do come see me new one up
Love n hugs
Susan~~~
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Thanks, both of you Renee, I don't recall ever seeing any of his artwork and I don't even know his name. I was way too young to even be aware of that. It would be interesting to know who he was, though, and to know if any of his art is still around.
Funny, the things we can remember and the things we forget. The scene of that room has, for some reason, always remained vivid in my memory. Maybe because it was a forbidden place for me at the time, maybe because it was kinda scary to be there. I do recall that my mother had told my sis and I not to go to his house and we were both afraid to actually step inside, and after a few minutes we took off running for home. My sis, Darlene, (J aime Coudre on all poetry) was less than two years old at the time and I was not yet three.
I'm glad the poem had an effect on you. Yours always does on me.
and love
Dee
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Wow! This poem gave me the chills. You took me there with you in words and images. I could even smell the dusty room. Exquisite my friend. I wonder, did you ever witness any of this fellows art? Excellent poem, what a child harbors in memory is sometimes very vivid.
Much Love,
Renee
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Excellent
Very Cool. You have great way with words. Very interesting
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