This beautiful poem arrived from Connie, one of the wonderful artists in the Saturday morning drawing class.
Landscape Mode
Overlooking the Cumberland River, Clarksville, Tennessee, Early November 1996
In ancient Chinese paintings we see more sky than
earth, so when clouds hurry by in silver-gray
inkbursts of rolling readiness right along the river,
ripe with rain, rushing the road of time along,
pushing back light, belittling the black and white clarity
of Hollywood in its prime, the eye climbs down to greet
with shining gusto trees along the shore, Opryland
beyond the frame, the blue horizon hidden in a sea
of possibilities. And beyond this there’s jazz: Jimmy Giuffre’s
“Train on a River†stretched out strong like a pet cat
-and that’s that. But not quite. This poem paints
poorly what sketchers and colorists do best. The rest
should come out empty, allowing you to fill in your own
basic emptiness, your openness, your self-portrait
forged and catalogued: on quiet exhibit, on temporary loan.
Descended from clouds immensely more ancient than China,
you never quit becoming the background, the field in a sky
whose subtle earthiness sails over our heads altogether.
Al Young
It is just what we’re trying to accomplish in our work—to bring our whole selves into the work so that we may all see the beauty all around us more clearly. We begin our next session on Saturday.
