“Important lessons. Look carefully. Record what you see. Find a way to make beauty necessary; find a way to make necessity beautiful.” from 'Fugitive Pieces' by Anne Michaels
Art exist to disturb the sleep of the world.
This is what the artist and poet do.
They awaken in us a sense of wonder, which is the driver of a creative life.
They take us on a journey, a special journey,
in a world where we are perishing for want wonder, not for want of wonders.
I first saw the image of a persimmon painted on a Japanese tea bowl. In a few simple calligraphic brush strokes all the plumpness and desirability of that fruit was most tenderlyå expressed. Keats poem, 'Ode the Autumn', came to mind. And, having read this poem, who can forget its rich remembrance of autumns past when a poet took up his pen and sketched these lines, which became one of the most famous and loved poems: here is a reminder:
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.”
Yesterday when I saw the very same persimmon, hanging from a low branch of a leafless tree. A haiku poem came to mind.
The Colour is Fading at the edge of the autumn landscape. The intensity of the green has been robbed of its brilliance. The green has become impure. The green has become tinged. The green is dissolving. The green has weakened just enough to have lost its dominance as 'the prominent colour' in nature. The overwhelming colours of summer greens are slowly changing.
A little yellow is edging in. Elbowing its ways through the trees. Yellow has seen its chance and made the most of it. Yellow, the vanguard of the autumn incursion, is moving in for the take-over. Although it has only a relatively short time for its period of brilliant dominance, this time will be intense, will glow and will burn bright. The yellows will be closely followed by golds, reds, various rich browns, oranges and all the other warm reflections of the autumn colour collection.
During the following days I noticed a shy slash of scarlet, then a timid blush of copper, followed be a hesitant line of orange and here and there somewhat bashful smudges of gold. But, soon after the whole landscape came alive with a quickly changing colour palette, transforming the lush green into vermillion, saffron, tangerine, crimson, ruby red, lutea yellow, magenta and many more. Mother nature has opened her paintbox and, tentatively, dipped in her brush. A splash here, a dab there, a little run of colour on this and a splatter of hue on that. In time she will become bolder until, in the end, she will blow all caution to the wind. Generously, with abandon, she will throw about all he colours she has at her disposal. In an absolute frenzy she will speed-spray-paint everything which was green.
Here, before our very eyes, colours are indiscriminately mixing and dancing together to provide us with a visual feast which seems to know no bounds. Add to that the fragrances associated with this season and we are in for a feast. A wonderful sensual feast.
On the way to winter, nature leaves a colourful wake.
If this is taken to its natural conclusion we know how this colour celebration will end. All the colour will drain out of the landscape and in the end leaves it pure white after the first flurries of snow. the silent white of snow. The stillness of no colour. Ahhhh.....
autumn delights Always the same. Always different.
Autumns now and remembered from the past. A time once again remembered in the visual splendour of the rich deep red plumpness of a simple persimmon placed on a white ceramic dish.