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Thursday, 24 May 2012

Drying Out Paint Strokes

Painted promises 
Wait until the paint dries out 
Before picking up this piece 

I know, no such man  
Who holds holly his work in progress 
And opens up his door, gladly 

To have spectators, swamp in 
As he sets out the revelations 
Of his mind in wonder process 

The critics would have their day
But not now, while I am in the process
With epiphany at my beck and call

Occupied signs on doors
Means an engagement of a kind
Do not disturb, wait until paints do dry out 

At the galleries, of course feel free  
Hanged on white walls, as observers wish 
With no paint palette, and mess on floors  

Clinically clean to help one, zone in 
In to what makes, thee deservedly a critic 
And ponder why a stroke, looks so out of place 

But for now, professor 
Allow paint strokes to dry on canvas 
I am still wearing my beret, with work cloths 

1 comment:

  1. Love "The critics would have their day
    But not now, while I am in the process
    With epiphany at my beck and call". So true of so much in life. This reminds me that we can't be fearful of that because it might keep us from being true to our art.


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