Category Archives: Art

Song of Wandering Aengus

the Song of wandering Aengus W BYeats

 

I love this poem and keep going back to it for lots of different projects.  There is something deeply resonant in the melancholic longing that Yeats expresses, promising beauty and meaning, offering the perpetual challenge to discover the unattainable, the unimaginable.

The illustration is from a walk I took a few years ago in Christchurch England, alone and tranquil. Somehow fitting.

Six years ago

cris in a hopper  digital media Anne Corr

Tears, no tears

Fifteen years I wanted to cry;
wished I would,
wanted the comfort of knowing I could.
An elephant dies
and I am drowning,
choking in emotion, and you say
“it’s just
a programme on t.v,
children in Africa die
all the time;”
What did that mean?
Should that have been the dam;
plugged this
embarassment of riches,
dried me up?
You’re twelve, tortoise -shelled
to shield from
all the carnage. You see;
you just don’t see
the point ; all the tears in the world
won’t cleanse the pain.

You see it true. Unflinching.

I want to be brave like you,

wanting to live
never forgetting
how to pitch

your weight against the day.

 

The sooner you begin……..

Brown Penny
I whispered, “I am too young,”
And then, “I am old enough”;
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
“Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.”
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.
— William Butler Yeats

I absolutely love the second  verse of this poem , it’s musicality and lyric qualities. It has a wonderful throwback quality to nursery rhyme with its rhythm and how ‘the stars had run away, and the shadows eaten the moon.’

Makes me gentle. Not a bad accomplishment Mr Yeats, for a string of words.

Andrew Wyeth - Wind from the Sea, 1947

Wind from the Sea  Andrew Wyeth

http://www.swoyersart.com/andrew_wyeth/windfromsea.htm

Morning call – take a moment.

morning haze  monet

I was working earlier this morning at promoting my hand made books on a craft site called Etsy, wherein there are forums which enables the site users to engage with one another, a method of bringing people together in shared endeavour.  Mainly the forums ask questions relating to their shops, or customers, or problems or simply to have a chat to break up the day.  This morning a question provoked my interest as it broke away from the everyday and asked

“What are you doing when you find yourself truly connected to nature?”

There was a variety of interesting replies,  many supporting the view about how nature was a resource for recharging and inspiration.  One reply noted how seeing an animal in distress connected her to the immediacy and demands nature sometimes places on us.  I thought about it for a few moments and replied.  This is my reply,

“nature holds everything , our existence on the planet is all about connection. When we learn how interconnected everything is, we start to take on responsibility in our own lives for how we choose to live. I am beginning to feel that life is about understanding that interconnection, and living fully within that realisation. It is lifelong learning full of challenges and deep joys. The journey toward Truth and Beauty is the totality of our lives, we determine how far we proceed on that journey. “

I am loving how rich that journey is, and how important my decisions are everyday, every moment as to how satisfying my brief encounter on this planet is.  At the same time I face the constant reminders that the human experience is very different depending what situations we are born into. My responsibility is not only to myself and my immediate family, it extends to all living matter.

I am sending my thoughts out in the hope that they resonate and that as companions in time, we all respect our individual journeys.

The beautiful image is by Monet, an artist who worked tirelessly at his vision of truth and beauty.