“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.
AUTUMN
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.
AUTUMN
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.
Petrus
No comments:
Post a Comment