while listening to Kayleen Asbo’s “Cypresses”
The wind, that knows itself only by what
it touches, does not whip your hair
as it churns through the wide golden wheat fields,
does not steal your hat as it tosses
the clouds into frothy white and violet whorls,
does not slap your face as you stare
at the silver-green branches of olive trees
upswept into turbulent curves. You’re just looking.
Until you realize the wind has breached the frame
and touched you the way it touches all that it loves,
and your heart knows what it perhaps wishes
it did not know—that all is changed and rearranged,
all gets stirred up and remade, even the cypress,
even the mountains, even the stubborn heart.
you can see the painting here
Posts Tagged ‘Art’
Looking at Van Gogh’s “Wheat Field with Cypresses”
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, change, ekphrasis, Kayleen Asbo, Van Gogh, wind on May 16, 2022| 9 Comments »
Visiting the Marble Sculptor’s Symposium, Marble, CO
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, creativity, Marble, sculpture on July 7, 2021| 4 Comments »
We watch as the sculptors pitch
and chisel, splitting the stone
to separate what is wanted
from what is not.
The marble, recently quarried,
is still soft. Can be worked, refined,
polished. As we watch, horses
emerge from one large block.
A dragon appears in another.
There—eyes. There—a hand.
There—a rabbit’s ear. Marble
dust hangs in the air
and the rhythmic beat of mallets
rings out a creation song.
I like best the statues
that appear unfinished—
a roughened breast,
an incomplete cheek,
smooth innuendo of a fold in a dress.
I swear I feel my own story
being chiseled by some great hand,
the block of my life not yet hardened,
not completely. Here the rasp of grief,
here the riffler of joy to enhance the shape
of my days—I am yet a suggestion
of what I will become.
It takes so much breaking to find
the final form.
It takes so much abrasion
to bring out the shine.
The Price of Nothing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ars poetica, Art, nothing, space on June 7, 2021| 6 Comments »
for “the lucky buyer” who “went home with a certificate of authenticity” for an “immaterial sculpture” by Salvatore Garau
What could be more valuable
than nothing? The nothing that
frames “The Thinker,” the nothing
that holds every bowl,
every vase, every bust, every thought.
Let others buy the clay, the steel,
the papier-mâché. I will be satisfied
with nothing more than nothing.
Nothing pleases me. Nothing
enchants me. Nothing,
as Heisenberg says,
has a weight. Just think
of the space here beside me
where you are not.
If someone asks me why
I have a five-by-five-foot
empty space taped off in my home
with a plaque that says I Am,
it is because I am so in love
with nothing. Imagine it—
nothing, the color of happiness,
nothing, the size of love,
nothing, the shape of god.
This poem was published in Rattle’s Poet’s Respond on June 13, 2021
Anna Akhmatova Speaks After the Revolution
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged anna akhmatova, Art, poem, poetry, Russia on April 27, 2018| 3 Comments »
We dreamed of revolution.
What came to Russia was terror,
terror that left us voiceless,
faceless, betrayed.
Blood in the streets.
Blood splattered on boots.
Blood that stank like blood.
I stood seventeen months
in prison lines three hundred women long,
waited to plead with the hangman
for my son. Seventeen months
I listened to the scrape
of the iron key that never
opened the lock.
Leave, said my friends
as they fled our land,
Leave Russia forever, they said.
But I could no more leave
the birches and pines,
the high mountains and endless steppes,
no, I could no more leave
the Russian people
than I could leave my own skin.
The government called me
an anachronism. They snarled,
“half nun, half whore.” They claimed
I contributed nothing to communism.
Burned my books. Forbid me
to publish more.
They killed my ex-husband.
My next husband, too.
They claimed intelligence
was a sin.
But when we’re silenced,
that’s the summons for our voice to grow,
and I went from the voice
of one woman wanting
to the voice of over
a hundred million mouths screaming,
screaming for freedom, for justice, for life.
They thought that by corseting my words
they could contain them. But they thought wrong.
Now, I whisper poems into the ears of my friends
and my words travel on, become living poems,
poems that throng in the streets.
Poems that stand in line and speak
to the women with blue lips who wail.
Poems that turn into ribbons
that flutter beyond the butcher’s reach.
Poems that slip beneath locked doors
that speak of suffering, futile war.
Now I know what art is for.
Expressionism
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, jackson pollock, poem, poetry on September 11, 2017| 4 Comments »
Let me be the canvas, then,
and you be Jackson Pollock—
be the wild one, the one
who burns, the one who
never sleeps and never yawns,
the one who steals the sun
and gives it to me.
Be the one who transforms me
again and again with colors,
ardent and avid and mad—
no, let me be the canvas,
and let life be the painter,
and you, you be the paint.
Next Chapter
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, books, parenting, poem, poetry, understanding on February 21, 2017| 4 Comments »
Mom, she says, Stop crying.
She’s embarrassed for me.
I can’t stop. After three hours
of snuggling on the green couch,
we are nearing the end of our book,
where the silverback gorilla
and the baby elephant say goodbye
to the girl who has helped them
leave their cages. It is not
the farewell that makes me weep,
though that, too, but the way
that the girl and the gorilla
share a passion for art. It’s so good,
I say to my girl between sniffs,
it’s so rare and so good to find someone
who really understands you.
She looks at me as if she will never
comprehend how such a thing
could make someone cry.
My tears land on the end of the chapter,
leaving a wet trail I don’t
expect her to follow, not yet,
her small hand already
pushing on mine to turn the page.
Throwing Away the Canvas
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, blank verse, poem, poetry, time, unrhymed sonnet on January 8, 2017| 1 Comment »
A response of sorts to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18
Not that I wasn’t fond of it—the blues
and golds and thick brush strokes—perhaps it was
because I was so fond of it I threw
the art away, that life-size portrait of
eternal summer, mine, the painting in
which one hand reaches for the sun, the other
grows dark roots into the earth. Now all
that lives of those bright lines are these two hands
that painted them. With something less than care
I rolled the canvas tight and took it to
the trash, the company of grapefruit rinds
and last year’s mail. By tea, I’ve gotten used
to how the wall looks—empty, open, free—
already dreamed what else these hands might do.
If You Can’t Make it to the Gallery …
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, ekphrastic poetry, Gallery 81435, Jill Sabella, poem, poetry, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer on October 14, 2016| Leave a Comment »
then you can enjoy the show right here on your screen. Last week was the opening of In Three Lines, a collaboration in art and poetry, at Gallery 81435 in Telluride.
I recommend listening to cello while you look through these images … that is what we had playing in the gallery, and the rich and resonant tone of the instrument seemed the perfect partner to these intimate and provocative pieces.
Here is a link to the pieces that are still available for sale, and if you look around the site, you will find that you can see the whole show. Thanks to the gallery for putting together this virtual tour.
The show is done in partnership with Snowmass artist Jill Sabella. For two years, we have been corresponding to create this comprehensive body of work. We took turns sending each other three-line inspirations. The pieces in white came first, and the pieces in beige were responses.
You can purchase books at wordwoman.com. And for more information about the artist, visit her website here. 
Art Opening: In Three Lines
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, ekphrasis, poem, poetry on October 3, 2016| Leave a Comment »
Here’s a bit of information about the upcoming show, In Three Lines and (I hope) book launch for Even Now … Thank you Telluride Inside & Out!
The Art of Less
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Art, ekphrasis, Jill Sabella, poem, poetry, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, Telluride Art Walk, three lines on September 8, 2016| 2 Comments »
October 6
Art Opening: In Three Lines
Telluride, CO
81435 Gallery, 6-9 p.m.
For two years I have been collaborating with artist Jill Sabella, experimenting with simplicity—a leaning toward less and the more that blossoms out of it. We took turns sending each other work to respond to. The result: 45 intimate pairings, in which three-line drawings and three-line poems reflect each other. Some are framed individually and others framed in conversations of three. Our vision: Elegant. Provocative. Inviting. Poignant. The artwork began with charcoal thoughts, and later the same drawings were done on rice paper with Sumi ink and brush.
In addition to the framed artwork, the pairings have been made into a book, even now (Lithic Press, 2016), which will be available in just a few weeks!
The pieces will be for sale in the gallery. If you are curious about purchasing a piece but are not able to make the show, I will help you see the images to make your selection. Single pieces are $250 and triptychs are $800. The show will be up until the first week of December. For more information, contact Molly Perault, 728-3930 or molly@Telluride Arts.org or Rosemerry at 970-729-1838, rosemerry@wordwoman.com