The mind has shown itself at times
Too much the baked and labeled dough
Divided by accepted multitudes.
Across the stacked partitions of the day–
Across the memoranda, baseball scores,
The stenographic smiles and stock quotations
Smutty wings flash out equivocations.
The mind is brushed by sparrow wings;
Numbers, rebuffed by asphalt, crowd
The margins of the day, accent the curbs,
Convoying divers dawns on every corner
To druggist, barber and tobacconist,
Until the graduate opacities of evening
Take them away as suddenly to somewhere
Virginal perhaps, less fragmentary, cool.
Being profoundly enriched recently by the writings of Harold Bloom, I am now reading Hart Crane poetry for the first time that I recall in my life. And I find this writer connecting with me in ways I haven’t known since the days of reading Walt Whitman and William Carlos Williams. The portion of the poem above really gave me pause, highlighting the kind of days I seem to live as this holiday season draws near. I love Thanksgiving and Christmas, and feel deeply the warm sentiments that permeate the atmosphere about me. Yet at the same time, deadlines seem to double, meetings triple, and responsibilities quadruple. The pace, the interruptions to any kind of flow, the rising noise about me–I find myself seeking ways to repel all of this rather than explode in frustration and petty verbal outbursts.
In the afternoons, I’m now sitting in my classroom/gallery, surrounded by my art, listening to soothing music, reading poetry and bending over the daily drawing. The one attached above is what I did yesterday before the 4:00 hour arrived. There were plenty of appointments waiting for me after 4:00, but the pause for reading, for music, and for art made all the difference.
And today offers the chance of being another good day.
Thanks for reading.
I make art in order to remember.
I journal when I feel alone.
I blog to remind myself that I am not alone.