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Posts tagged ‘artists’

Reluctant sharing

I went to a very moving play this afternoon called Red, and it really got me thinking about art in any form and how the creator feels about sharing their work. It is an account about the artist Mark Rothko, and how he struggled with his art during the creating of a commissioned piece for the Four Seasons restaurant in New York City. In one breath he would talk of how he longed for his art to be received and perceived regardless of the reaction, but then in the next breath he would express doubts about letting it be viewed at all; fears came forth that it would be criticized or not understood. It is something that I believe most artists struggle with, the doubts about how their precious work that has heart and soul poured into it will be received. I have felt that ambiguity; so anxious to share my words with a sense of bravado, but secretly hoping that they will be met with gentle thoughts. But even after receiving the familiar rejection letters that we all have to experience as writers, I still want to share my words, taking the chance and accepting all the varied reactions that they engender.

The Pretty Words


All my pretty words

Birthed into verse

Now what?

Some of my babies

Have left the nest

Flying off

Safely, I hope

I do worry

A bit

Will the outsiders

Handle them with care

Or judge them harshly

The words that still

Live at home

I encourage them to stay

For now

I see them

And I smile

My precious babies

All my pretty words

Pain as a muse

I recently viewed a wonderful exhibition of encaustic art, which is the art of using wax as a medium, much in the way oil paints or watercolors are used as a medium. There were several local artists featured, and included with their work was a short biography of themselves as an artist, and where the inspiration came from to create the work they chose to exhibit. And many of them talked of painful times in their lives as the motivation to create, to purge themselves of the depleting emotions they felt. When I first starting writing, I found myself doing that very thing; writing the words in poems to express the hurt and the anger I was working through. It was a very powerful way to help me heal. After I came home from the art exhibit, I realized I hadn’t read some of those first words for a time, and that those emotions need to be shared as well as the joyous ones. Sometimes it helps to look back at where we were, to see how truly far we have come – and I have come a long way from pain to find a place of peace.

Onion Flower


Onion – like

Layers peeling away


Plucked off

One by one

“I feel love, I feel fear”

Hoping for the last petal

To be love

The absolute rawness

Of breaking


Into a million tiny pieces

Of emotion

There it is

For all to see

I am naked, exposed

I like the exposure

Feeling the anger

I loosen its grip

Releasing emotion


Shouting if I must

Silent and hidden no more



Is just fear

Masked in a different name

It paralyzes

Like venom from a snake

Unable to move

A helpless prey

So they use you

Sometimes they abuse you

Until the antivenin

Of strength courses through

To counteract

The poison of insecurity

In the Eye


I sit with the others

Listening to their stories

Adding tiny words of my own

Then their voices chime in again

The conversation swirls all around me

I am in the eye of this hurricane

Of shared thoughts

Invisible, unnoticed

It is calm where I am

They pay no attention to me

Asking no questions

No concerns

I stay quiet

Letting their windy voices blow on and on

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