So today is “Inspire Your Heart With Art” Day. A day when you should take a moment, or several, to find some art to appreciate. Something positive, an image that makes your soul warm, a song that makes you smile, see a play, anything to inspire your hearts (skip the edgy, political, angry types of art today). Or spend some time creating art from your hearts, inspire someone else too.
Music: Yo Yo Ma, James Taylor, Camille West, Billy Keane & the Misdemeanor Outlaws
Artists: Claude Monet, Jeff Koons, Keelan McMorrow, Alphonse Mucha, Douglas Maguire, and well… Me too. (for more art that I like check out my board on pinterest here)
There’s a kind of strange journey creativity often takes. Especially in abstract work (I suspect). Years ago someone introduced me to this poem. Immediately I loved it. In such a simply engaging written moment Frank O’Hara managed to describe the experience that I could not find words for. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Why I Am Not a Painter
by Frank O’Hara
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
“Sit down and have a drink” he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. “You have SARDINES in it.”
“Yes, it needed something there.”
“Oh.” I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. “Where’s SARDINES?”
All that’s left is just
letters, “It was too much,” Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven’t mentioned
orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike’s painting, called SARDINES.