"Painting is an island whose shores I have skirted." --Chardin
Sunday, April 05, 2009
(7x11) "Daybeak in Spring" Meng Haoran
Asleep in the spring, dawn comes to me unawares; I hear the birds singing all around. When night comes there's the sound of wind and rain; Who knows how many blossoms fall to the ground.
Haoran's words are very apropos--your delicate yellows on this forsythia are lovely, Laura! I'm always a mixture of saddened when spring petals fall to the ground and simultaneously pleased at the bed of color at our feet when they do.
What a perfect sprig of forsythia! So elegant in its simplicity, lovely yellow. Thanks for the poetry, too: you know how I love the pairing of words and images.
There is something heartbreakingly beautiful about this simple I want to say "strand" of blossoms (like pearls) and the austere but beautiful poetry you've matched it up with.
(7x11)
Haoran's words are very apropos--your delicate yellows on this forsythia are lovely, Laura! I'm always a mixture of saddened when spring petals fall to the ground and simultaneously pleased at the bed of color at our feet when they do.
ReplyDeleteYou Laura,
ReplyDeletereally astound me. First the amazing painting of forsythia, then today's poem. The poems are so perfect -- like your work.
Thank you,
Barbara
What a perfect sprig of forsythia! So elegant in its simplicity, lovely yellow. Thanks for the poetry, too: you know how I love the pairing of words and images.
ReplyDeleteForsythia is such a harbinger of spring! I love the simple elegance of this painting.
ReplyDeleteThere is something heartbreakingly beautiful about this simple I want to say "strand" of blossoms (like pearls) and the austere but beautiful poetry you've matched it up with.
ReplyDelete