timid soul sparks light
a feeble space to wonder sharpen iron words
And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
Keflavik airport art
i try hard to stay open
while the heart shuts
i scream loud
in a whisper
salted with fear
and roll with the punches
stuck in second gear
Eve @Chicago Institute of Art. 2/2018
Her In All Nakedness of Thought
Please do not use my photos without permission. Thank you.
The Hope of a Condemned Man, Joan Miró
Life is really
all but apologizing,
yeah, you found yourself
“So what!” they scream. Now apologize.
No, your no better -yesterday
climb the stairs to nowhere. -He
he had but
the loveliest of souls.
“It is the black vein in white marble; it gets everywhere, appears under your chisel at any moment without warning. Your statue has to be redone.” Victor Hugo
The Last Day of a Condemned Man
Is it a mistake that Rodin loved Victor Hugo? I should say not.
Bust of Young Balzac -Rodin (Columbus Museum of Art)
An example of Rodin’s work in anticipation of visiting the exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago.
Honoré de Balzac, French novelist and playwright. May 20, 1799 –August 18, 1850)
“Moonlight is sculpture.” Nathaniel Hawthorne
“Sculpture is the art of the intelligence.” Pablo Picasso
The Freedman, 1863, John Quincy Adams Ward
“The Freedman” in bronze, is on display at the Cincinnati Museum of Art.
downtown Santa Fe
How does grass -grow
to reach it’s full potential
in the shadows -soft
as in the sun?
Seed heads fully blossom
the wind carries through,
all is well in my garden
gently blowing towards you.
If you were to know
my paper heart -sails
to tell you, you are the one
how far the string -let go?
The stars and moon
shadow the sun
as my melancholy heart
wishes we only begun.