Absent of light
the canvas becomes black –
in the blackness there is
not nothing – there is
everything we choose to show,
to expose, to translate from the
memories and images into
a masterpiece – who can judge art
when colors, shapes, lines, splatters,
and disconnected images are the hands
interpretation of the mind’s chaos?
Black Canvas
Very cool. I have never read a reaction to a painting by a poet. This is a deeper communication than the usual comments one hears by onlookers.
Thank you Kristin, I appreciate your kind comments.