Another piece that popped into my head and had to be realized. I thought the face looked a bit like Audrey Hepburn but the image was from my imagination.
Tom wrote a wonderful sonnet to accompany this one. I took the title for the painting from his poem.
Is there a dancer dreaming of the flowers
or a flower dreaming of the dance
waving on the winds that sweep and scour
the stage while all the chorus line’s advance
is checked by stems too short for metre’s travel
and so they bow and shimmy in reverse
before their strict formation can unravel
into a flock of petals, or still worse
inelegant and wobbly razzle-dazzle
unfit for such refined and proper blooms
despite just feeling oh so slightly frazzled
knowing that the end of dancing looms?
For days the flowers dance upon the breeze
bringing all who see them to their knees.
Another watercolour from my sketch book. Maybe I dreamt this – not sure! It just came into my head and I had to get it onto paper. (The signature was added after as a digital stamp.)
Tom came up with a delightful poem for this – I took the title of the piece from the poem.
The Lady of the Lake gets all the press
while no one minds the Person of the Pond
floating here without the dreadful stress
of handing swords to kings. The lily fronds
are all I need to keep me company
whilst contemplating which and wherefore. Why
do humans march with such cacophony
through their lives when someday they must die?
A life of quiet in my pond is all
I’ve ever wished for, while these errant kings
go to the lake for swords: their duty calls
them to the field to fight for lower things
while I am left alone in peaceful deeps
enjoying life in silent, secret keeps.
Well for me this was one of those moments – I saw the shape of the board and a vision formed in my mind of what to paint …and I painted it. There was some evolution as I painted but this is pretty much per my original vision. Happy! She is called Sophia because the name means wisdom.
Without discussing what the painting meant to me with Tom, he came up with a poem that says in words what I hoped to express in paint. To be honest, we never do discuss the paintings before he writes the poetry – sometimes I am amazed and surprised by what he sees, and sometimes like this time, there is a remarkably singular vision.
The Lady of the Lake has seen
the colours of the western sky
where the future’s past has been
as swallows dance and nightjars fly
between the sunset and the dawn
as the silent stars are drawn
so slowly up the vault of heaven
where the will of man is leavened
with the love of woman, strong
whose waits with patience, fortitude,
and just a little attitude,
for time’s result, so ever long.
She knows all things will one day be
in futures bright we cannot see.
Well, this sprang in part from the freedom and joy I felt painting the last botanical abstract and in part I dreamed her. It happens sometimes. I am often reminded of the Picasso quotation “inspiration exists, but it has to find you working” – definitely if I hadn’t painted that day, the image in my head would have floated away. The painting is strange and weird and I kind of love it.
Tom’s wonderful poem reads almost like a riddle.
She’s always there, within the lurking trees
about to surface, coming into light
where the forest stirs in absent breeze
and the darkness sparkles in the night.
Perhaps you’ll catch her passing swift behind
a walking shadow, dancing with an elf,
or vanishing before your very mind,
until you wonder, “Is that… or myself?”
Her eyes are watching all and seeing naught
but beauty where there’s nothing else to see:
she’s always there, but never seen nor caught
by merely mortal eyes within the trees.
She moves the world, although she does not move,
she is the First, by which all things are proved.