Colourdrip

constructive criticism always welcome

The lines he uses are rough
In drawing the mother and the child
And the colours are somewhat dark.

a la Beckmann?

No, the colours ran

and Schiele drew them

in 1912.

He could re-scetch time after time

but
In the end, the only thing left
Is a canvas,

 splashed wandering
How they look

the one enveloped

in the other,
And a lack of paint
Where he chooses
To be a wild ascetic
Over a tamed dad.

Every line is wrong.

How to draw

what is

forever gone

or was

already drawn and

Framed?

Painted hand

lets the colour

drip

where the heart

is

colourless

 

 

 

If he knew

how to draw them,

she would scream

with scratches

in the paint

 

Reviews

[Circe]

not knowing anything about the world of painting, but this seems psychological in preparation and motive... from the bare bones of the canvas... how it is expressed upon with choice and deliberation, painting the heart, the very task is overwhelming.... daunting.. and that is represented in the dripping of colour I think. the last stanza is absolutely imperative and powerful.... the demystification of art.. so blasphemous...

[Marri]

I read yesterday what Millet said about art: 'It is the treating of the commonplace with the feelings of the sublime that gives to art its true power'. I think sometimes, completely blasphemously, whether art is good enough reason to compensate the destruction we bring with ourselves. I mean, on one side I put human courage, love, compassion, and of course the creation of masterpieces, be it in music, painting, literature, etc, and then I weigh them up against killings, torture, hatred...I mean, this is not a clever opposition, but when we sum up things, nothing seems clever and rational. So, here is the blasphemous question of the demystification of art. This poem is too close to me, to ever write it well...but you know a lot about painting, it takes one look at your work and one is overwhelmed by the power of your images. You might not ever pick up a brush, but that you are a true artist I have no doubt

[Marri]

and 'bare bones of the canvas' is absolutely marvelous

[Circe]

what an illustration on the compensating for destruction.... in some ways yes in communicating suffering, in expressing it, we are transformed by this humility... we need the purity of truth..... You really do write it so well this niche sweetly attached to you...

[Marri]

I would dare say me and you are similar (forgive my audacity), I would dare say that people like you and me are like sponges and we absorb everything around us: so it is sweetly and tragically attached to us

[Circe]

yes... like sponges! i couldn't agree more... soaking up the best and the worst

[Steven]

Every line is wrong

and

Lets the color drip where the heart is colorless

I really dug

[Marri]

Hah, thank you...My little sis is doing a song on this one right now and dug those lines too, I think they are the only ones she is keeping hah

[Steven]

Haha.. they're good song lines

[Marri]

we will see...but the rest of it is bleeding because she chops it off mercilessly...but it's rarety that she likes sth of mine, normally she says that she doesn't want to sing about dead people...i don't get why hahahaha

[Marri]

Ps- last thing was supposed to be a joke, I get completely why...But need to clarify, loads of misunderstanding in non-face communication.

[Steven]

lol, I'm fond of that image, in a sick way.

ahahah... I guess people just can't relate to them? They're so polite, you know.

[Marri]

hah, yeah, and hard to sing about break ups and hot love between corpses...

[Steven]

xD. Maybe you could call in Alice Cooper?

[Marri]

hah, made me laugh in a grey day!

[Steven]

:). ps, great Dickinson quote