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GALLERY
I have visited countlessart galleries in this countryand a few in Europe as well and Ialways stop and stare at the masters’still life paintings, how the lightplays off a piece of fruit, howthe glazed porcelain on a ewerseems to make the reflected lightinvite you to dance with it.I wanted to sip tea from a china…
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VINCENT
When we visited Arleswe expected to see paintingsof wildflowers, night skies,all the images that Van Goghleft as his legacy. We did see posters,postcards and booksbut not a single paintingis to be found by the masterwhere he painted. We at least hopedthe night sky from the boatwould be somethingto remember alwaysbut clouds over Arleslook much the…
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POSER
For unknown reasons Iwas told I was going tosit for a portrait by a wellknown local artist. It was a gift, so I hadlittle choice but to accept,and so I sat on a chairfrozen in place. I asked how long itwould take and he replied“Not more than four sittingsand then I can go to work.”…
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CECI N’EST PAS
This morning the skyis a painting by Magritteas it is most days, no titleCeci n’est pas un ciel. The birds rise fromthe wetland as Escherwould imagine them,the small wetlandonce a place thatmight be painted byMonet on a day whenhe cared nothingfor water lillies, but nowa jungle of Gauguin. We wait for the returnof the flocks…
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COUPLING
Walking through the art gallery,she frequently pauses to lookat paintings of couples in a baror a cafe, engaged in conversation. I tell her they seem sad, as thoughwhatever romance they hadhas waned, they having grownapart, this a parting of sorts. She laughs and says that I mistakewistfulness for sadness, menso often do, and adds they…
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WINTER
As I stare out the window and watchthe snow slowly build on the limbsof the now barren crab apple, paintingit with a whiteness that bears heavily,giving the smaller branches a betterview of the ground in which theirfruit of the summer lies buried. I am forced to wonder if the treecontinues to watch me, if its…
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JIZO’S FLOWER
When you see a painting of a beautiful rose, how can you describe it. You must breathe deeply of its sweet fragrance Be careful, do not pierce your finger on its waiting thorns. The rose has withered into dust before your mouth is opened. A reflection on Case 76 of the Iron Flute Koans
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TRAVEL: TWO THOUGHTS
The packed suitcase sits on the futon but neither it nor I are in any hurry to depart. 4 AM in Chicago blanketed in snow is an orange neon painting.
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THE WALL
No one is certain who painted the words on the wall. No one knew when the painting occurred, someone noticed the words one morning and told others, and the word spread through town. People stopped to look at the words, but few understood what they meant. Soon there were pictures drawn around the words, familiar…
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an old writer and his words 