It’s the third Thursday of the month, and that means it’s time for . . .
In my wildest schemes and dreams (and plans), I do something artistic every day.
What, exactly, do I mean by that? And how do I define “artistic” anyway? Well. That’s the real trick, y’know; it’s my personal “sticky wicket.” Because deep in my heart, what I mean to do is express myself through visual arts . . . drawing, painting, collage, printing. It’s something I crave doing. It’s something I want to do. But. It doesn’t always work out that way. Because my head fights my heart every single day. My head tells me that I need to Get Things Done and that I Don’t Have Time For That (and also that I am No Good and Who Cares Anyway).
It’s a struggle for me. And especially at this time of year . . . when I’m moving out of my summer “palette” of gardening-as-art and back into my inside “studio” to pick up my pencils and brushes (which is another problem altogether since I can’t even allow myself to say I have a “studio” without using those quotation marks because I feel like such a fraud when it comes to “my art”) (sigh).
Anyway. Personal demons and baggage. (Working on it.) But when I found this poem the other day? Well. It spoke to me. As poetry will. If we let it.
Art Lesson
by Mark NepoThe mind moves like a pencil.
The heart moves like a brush.While the mind can draw
exquisite prints, the heart
with its deep bright colors
will ignore the lines.If you only follow your mind,
you wil never go outside the lines.If you only follow your heart,
what you touch will never
resemble anything.We must be
a student of both.For the mind can build
itself a home, but only
the heart can live in it.
This poem can be found in The Wonder of Small Things: Poems of Peace & Renewal, edited by James Crews, 2023, Story Publishing. Information about the poet can be found here.
====
You can find A Gathering of Poetry every month . . . on the third Thursday.
Share some.
Read some.
Gather up some poetry!
(Bonny is hosting a special link-up for A Gathering of Poetry. Be sure to check it out!)
Wow, Kym. This is powerful… so powerful! Perfect words to post in your studio as you pair heart and mind together and create! XO (and those necessary tasks?… well they will be patiently waiting for you!)
That poem seems to truly reflect your struggle with calling yourself an artist. I’m here to say that you ARE an artist to me. I call my room full of yarn and arts and crafts supplies my studio and it does feel a tad pretentious. But “craft room” feels belittling to what I do there. And yet, I still feel like I have to justify calling it a studio. In other words, I get it.
That is a terrific poem that perfectly expresses the struggle with art (as good poetry does). I think of you as a creative artist and I think this poem is in agreement. Better understanding through poetry!
I also understand about studio. I sit there and gaze at all the colors and what they might become. Isn’t that artistic? But I think we attach something “professional” and/or “money-producing” to that word when most of us are doing it as a creative pastime for our own pleasure. So I guess it’s up to us as individuals to either broaden the definition or seek another term that gives us gravitas without us feeling over-reaching. Of course, Kym, if you ever sell even one of your pieces (as well you might and should!) you can definitely call it a studio!…..Poetry: Subjected, er, exposed, to lots of it in school but never drawn particularly to it later in life. But occasionally something will strike me such as what you just printed above. Love. It. Thank you so much! Another recent one was quoted on a Raveler’s profile page. By Pablo Neruda. About sliding on a pair of hand-knitted slippers. Stunning. Every knitter should read it. Unfortunately I don’t think I saved it. Maybe Google Neruda + slippers?
Just Googled Neruda + socks. What it came up with was NOT the poem on Ravelry. That one was lyrical. The Googled one is more prosaic….Thinking of “Workshop” as a substitute for craft room conjuring up medieval guild-like similarities. But it wouldn’t work for the Fine Arts like drawing or painting. Hmmm..studio might just be it.
Studios come in all shapes and sizes, even if the studio is just a tray table set up in the corner of the living room.
My studio moves . . . sometimes it is the counter in the kitchen, sometimes it is the desk in the second (guest?) bedroom, and sometimes …….it is in a coffee shop. Wherever I am knitting, stitching, writing —- there is my studio.
I did some more digging and that Was the same poem! “Ode to my socks”. But on Pilliewinkis’ profile page it was truncated to the more lyrical and descriptive sections. So I didn’t recognize it right away. Sorry!
Well said, Dee!
Lovely poem and so true.
This may seem tangential but, a number of years ago a friend wanted to know how I managed to get my walk in almost every day. After I thought about it for a minute I said, “well, it’s because I am a walker.”
We do the task when we self identify as one who does it. Then it becomes like brushing your teeth, you do it because it is part of who you are.
So even if you don’t call yourself an “artist”….instead maybe a painter, or a sketcher… whatever. You do a little every day because that is who you are.
I loved this from you.
It’s good to know that we have good company in impostor syndrome with that whole “studio” thing. I have to wonder if it’s because so many of us had it drilled into us that making art/being creative was not a “real” profession, meaning it can only ever be a hobby, and if it’s a hobby, you don’t need a real studio, right? Anyway, this poem is great and is a great reminder that we all can be artists!
I call it my WORKROOM… and I do all sorts of things in there (sometimes, even “work”).
No doubt you have tapped a topic here… (I sent you an email once, several months ago now, in response to a similar thought you shared in a blog post. I’ve been trying to work on it since then…) Why do we shrink from our own bright light? Why go small? (Rhetorical, of course.)
🤍
Lovely, Kym – and I read the first sentence of your post and thought immediately of how your garden, your stitching (those Dropcloth samplers!), your cooking! … so much of what you share here is pure art! and then I read the rest of your post 😉
What a wonderful poem! The theme of last week’s poetry class was similar — living in the moment, noticing life’s moments. It was a very good class.
Very meaningful poetry.
What a beautiful poem. I’ll be thinking about if for some time to come.