Posts Tagged ‘Hart Crane’

Pushing Aside the Traffic to Linger Over a Drawing

December 10, 2015


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.

Hart Crane

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.

Wrinkled Shadows

December 9, 2015


Driving early to school in the pre-dawn, listening to Youtube on my phone, I was taken by Hart Crane’s poetry reading, particularly the juxtaposition of the words “wrinkled shadows.” As soon as I got to school, finding plenty of time before the first class began, I took up my pencils and worked on another quick tree sketch, thinking about those shadows with their wrinkled bark.  And as I worked in silence, I thought of T. S. Eliot’s refrain concerning the shadow in “The Hollow Men.”

I’m finding a fascinating world in these tree renderings, and am starting to find amusement in their reproduction, like wild mushrooms (I have now eight 5 x 7″ drawings of trees in 8 x 10″ white mats and shrinkwrapped, priced between $25 and $40).  I am finding great pleasure in drawing them and cannot help but wonder where this is going to take me next.

Thanks for reading.

I make art in order to understand.

I journal when I feel alone.

I blog to remind myself I am not alone.