Monday, January 28, 2008

Why I Paint Objects.

A poem by Chilean Nobel poet laureate, Pablo Neruda, captures my feelings about objects and says, more clearly than I can, why I am drawn to paint them. Below I quote only a few lines from his poem, "Ode to Things":

I have a crazy,
crazy love of things.
I like pliers,
and scissors
I love
cups,
rings,
and bowls -
not to speak, of course,
of hats.
I love
all
things,
not because they are
passionate
or sweet-smelling
but because,
I don't know,
because
this ocean is yours,
it's mine:
buttons,
wheels
the little
forgotten
treasures,
feathered fans
on which
love has scattered
its blossoms,
glasses, knives,
scissors,
all have
on their handle, in their outline,
the traces
of someone's fingers,
of a distant hand
lost
in the most forgotten of the forgotten.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wow! Yes, but when you paint they are not forgotten. They come back alive to be enjoyed again and again.