Messenger

Messenger

by Mary Oliver

My work is loving the world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird---

equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.

Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old?  Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect?  Let me

keep my mind on what matters,

which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be

astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

and these body-clothes,

a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,

telling them all, over and over, how it is

that we live forever.

Listening to mine messenger, that's the quest.  Listening to Mary Oliver last night was inspiring, hilarious, and deeply moving.  She made a joke about commas being inserted into lines by poets wanting some definitive way to highlight a particularly fabulous phrase,  "...that's why you find them in my poetry, and dashes, lots of dashes!"  I just loved how she let us all know that we all have precious phrases and lines IN us, and of course we are going to search for ways to make them obvious!  Why wouldn't we?

Listening to a program about Roy Orbison as I am working today:  I loved him when I got my first Personal Stereo (not to share with Mom, or brothers, or somebody turning it off right in the middle of "Leah!").  I played his records many times every day.  Oh Lordy, now I hear him in rehersal with the Boss.  Now, HOW am I supposed to concentrate?  Oh, Sweet Dreams, Bay-beh!

Oh, and MO writes dog poems!  Hee hee hee!  Look out, Literary World!!!

What is your personal Messenger whispering today?

xoxoLC

artist statement for today...

My work is loving the world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird--equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.

Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

from Messenger, by Mary Oliver.

Artist Statement for today, September 22, 2008

My earliest recollection of “art work” is of intense concentration, my fat little fingers gripping an even fatter, thick-leaded pencil.  My drawings included family members, animals, trees, grass, sky, water, and horses.  At a very early age, writing letters and words fascinated me, as they seemed to carry “the message.”  To this day, I swoon at the smell of a newly opened box of Crayons.

Today I paint and write.  My paintings have evolved into what appears to be large expanses of pure color.  On closer inspection one finds layers of color, brushstrokes, line, form, many depths of visual and perceptual suggestion, which create a spiritual relationship between viewer and the painting.  I arrive at color choice after meditation and prayer.  My process includes vast areas of quiet-time,  during which the next layer of applied color is seen in my mind.

Poetry, prose, memoir and essay are included in my writing.  Often, like my paintings, the writing is a combination of form, as prose poetry, or memoir poetry, or essay poetry.

Today my painting and writing bring practicality to this mind of mine, which loves to hang out in the esoteric.  

On days that seem too busy, too full of un-artist, or even anti-artist tasks, it is important for me to remember to claim my place, my work.  "My work is loving the world."  Even when I cannot see or hear the sunflowers or hummingbirds, loving this full and crazy life is healing and transformational.

In gratitude...

xoxoLC