Oranges colliding with reds, purples,aubergines,pinks and yellows, that is what I saw on the canvas painted in the sky last Sunday night. I tried to capture the essence of the sunset with my cellphone but it was grainy, my view was obstructed by the remnants of some trees that have been removed, privet and a dead birch. The sky I imagined was like a palette one might have found in Monet’s . As I stood and marvelled at the explosion of colour across the horizon juxtaposed against the remnants of once living trees framed by tall strong Birch and Kanuka I realised that I had seen these colors only last week.
I attended an exhibition opening Rachel Errington’s trees and lights. A cursory glance across the walls at the gallery revealed an explosion of colour, it seemed to be trees everywhere. I am no art critic, but I know what I like and I admire the skill of artists. A cursory glance can miss so many things. I stepped back and here was something different a 3d dimension that brought the paintings to life, and were almost disturbing, not in a malevolent foreboding way at all, but very different. Her use of light was intuitive, it drew me in closer for a look the paintings were done using pointillism very skilful almost like pixelation. It is the fine work that makes someone a master. One of her paintings caught my eye,the tracks in the snow evoked a strong feeling of being lost but not unfindable. Being hidden and visible at the same time.
This reminds me of how we can see people and yet not see them. I watched The Interview and apart from being puerile and predictable, there seemed to be a sub text about how we objectify and ignore people who do not fit into our world, we leave tracks where ever we go in life, some are like the painting in snow, covered quickly and melt away, others take a lot longer and may never fade. Some people find solace in a rainbow, a promise of peace, me sunsets, I love them, they wash the sky with brilliance and can be immensely healing, our words are the same. Watching a sunset is one of those majestic things without equal in my life. Whilst I want to record them when I see one, they are never quite as good lacking the mauri, the spark of life.
For me this is like the words I write, I know they can be powerful, people have told me they make them cry, it is still very different when you perform them live, you suddenly realise that the room has become quiet, except for the sound of a sniff as tears begin to fall, sometimes even I become enmeshed with the emotion of the poems. It is a privilege to see words that I bring evoke emotion, although not all of my poems are positive but they can be cathartic and healing as well. Our words are very powerful is the lesson that this delivers to me. I need to remind myself of this more often, to keep my ready sarcasm and sardonicism at bay, but also to remind me to speak words of life, affirmation and truth.
I have some words I need to say to some people that may not be well received however they need to be said. I don’t relish the thought of it, but being driven mad by some things and I need to also bring some words of life to some people. I try to remember to make a difference by my encouraging words as well as my corrective ones, difficult at times but worth the effort, knowing you made a difference…