Wandering in Woodacre – 29 March 2021

This Date in Art History: Died 29 March 1891 – Georges Seurat, a French painter.

Below – “Bathers at Asnieres”; “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte”; “Woman Powdering Herself”; “The Circus”; “Flowers in a Vase”; “Models.”

A Poem for Today

“The Light Presses Down”
by Frank O’Hara

The light presses down
in an empty head the trees
and bushes flop like
a little girl imitating
The Dying Swan the stone
is hot the church is a
Russian oven and we
arc traveling still
you come by to type
your poems and write a
new poem instead on my
old typewriter while I sit
and read a novel about
a lunatic’s analysis of
a poem by Robert Frost
it is all suffocating
I am still traveling
with Belinda Lee where
does she take me Africa
where it is hot enough
even to make the elephant
angry and the grass is
all withered and TV color

why do I always read
Russian exile novels in
summer I guess because
they’re full of snow
and it is good to cry a
little to match your sweat
and sweat a little
to match their tears

Below – Elena Morozova: “Hot Summer Evening”

Contemporary Belgian Art – vanessa van meeraeghe

Below – “The Road”; “Almost cooked”; “There’s no grapes here”; “A Heron’s Place”; “Skyline”; “The tourists.”

A Poem for Today

“Sonnet LXXIX”
by Pablo Neruda

Tie your heart at night to mine, love,
and both will defeat the darkness
like twin drums beating in the forest
against the heavy wall of wet leaves.

Night crossing: black coal of dream
that cuts the thread of earthly orbs
with the punctuality of a headlong train
that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly.

Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement,
to the grip on life that beats in your breast,
with the wings of a submerged swan,

So that our dream might reply
to the sky’s questioning stars
with one key, one door closed to shadow.

Below – Sandra Woerner: “love”


Contemporary Greek Art – Michel Devanakis

Below – “After the rain”; “Indian Laundry”; “Solukhumbu”; “Esoterica”; “Lady with veil 2”; “Ephemeral Self-Portrait.”

A Poem for Today

“Here in Katmandu”
by Donald Justice

We have climbed the mountain.
There’s nothing more to do.
It is terrible to come down
To the valley
Where, amidst many flowers,
One thinks of snow,

As formerly, amidst snow,
Climbing the mountain,
One thought of flowers,
Tremulous, ruddy with dew,
In the valley.
One caught their scent coming down.

It is difficult to adjust, once down,
To the absence of snow.
Clear days, from the valley,
One looks up at the mountain.
What else is there to do?
Prayer wheels, flowers!

Let the flowers
Fade, the prayer wheels run down.
What have they to do
With us who have stood atop the snow
Atop the mountain,
Flags seen from the valley?

It might be possible to live in the valley,
To bury oneself among flowers,
If one could forget the mountain,
How, never once looking down,
Stiff, blinded with snow,
One knew what to do.

Meanwhile it is not easy here in Katmandu,
Especially when to the valley
That wind which means snow
Elsewhere, but here means flowers,
Comes down,
As soon it must, from the mountain.

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