Showing posts with label ElizaBeth Forbes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ElizaBeth Forbes. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Happiness

Crystal, 2013, Elizabeth Forbes, Indianapolis Museum of Art, IN


Happiness is like a crystal,
Fair and exquisite and clear,
Broken in a million pieces, 
Shattered, scattered far and near.
Now and then along life's pathway,
Lo! some shining fragments fall;
But there are so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.



You may find a bit of beauty,
Or an honest share of wealth,
While another just beside you
Gathers honor, love or health.
Vain to choose or grasp unduly,



Broken is the perfect ball;
And there are so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.

Yet the wise as on they journey
Treasure every fragment clear,
Fit them as they may together,
Imaging the shattered sphere
Learning ever to be thankful,
Though their share of it is small;
For it has so many pieces 
No one ever finds them all.


Thinking Glass Figure, 2012, Daniel Arsham, detail, broken glass, resin


~ Pricilla Leonard

Sunday, March 24, 2013

There is No Death

Sofia Ajram

There is no death! The stars go down
  To rise upon some other shore,
And bright in heaven's jeweled crown
  They shine forevermore.
Amelia Fletcher
There is no death! The dust we tread
  Shall change, beneath the summer showers
To golden grain, or mellowed fruit,
  Or rainbow-tinted flowers.

From the 'Bloom' Installation, Anna Schuleit

There is no death! The leaves may fall,
  And flowers may fade and pass away--
They only wait, through wintry hours,
  The warm, sweet breath of May.

Elizabeth Forbes, Indiana
The bird-like voice, whos joyous tones
  Made glad this scene of sin and strife
Sings now an everlasting song
  Amid the tree of life.
Christoffer Relander

And ever near us, though unseen,
  The dear, immortal spirits tread;
For all the boundless universe
  Is Life-there are no dead!
Self Portrait, Noell Osvald

~ John Luckey McCreery
(As it appears in A Treasury of Poems; A collection of the World's Most Famous and Familiar Verse compiled by Sarah Anne Stuart, p.41-2)

I really wanted to go with newer artists again and get outside the square with the interpretations of the poem while at the same time trying to convey the emotion in the poem with the emotion in the images.

Friday, February 1, 2013

A Child Said, What is the Grass?

Reflection, Jeniffer Sams, copyright 2012


A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful
green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child. . . .the produced babe
of the vegetation.

A Simple Leaf, ©ELFoto 2012 ©ELFoto (ElizaBeth Forbes)

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow
zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the 
same, I receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them;
It may be you are from old people and from women, and
from offspring taken soon out of their mother's laps,
And here you are the mother's laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old
mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

Warmth, Stephanie Wirt, Powhatan, VA

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues!
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths
for nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men
and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring
taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
What do you think has become of the women and
children?

They are alive and well somewhere;
The smallest sprouts show there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait
at the end to arrest it,
And ceased the moment life appeared.

All goes onward and outward. . . .and nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and
luckier.


~ Walt Whitman



Whitman uses the imagery of a leaf of grass symbolizing the the pages of his poetry book, the form of his poetry, and a actual grass growing.  The first is a physical and natural meaning. The child in the poem, possibly Whitman's inner child, is asking Whitman what is the meaning of the natural world. Whitman does not have an answer for the child. Whitman's voice is later describing the cyclical nature of grass and how nature continues "onward and outward" in a never ending circle.  Whitman is also speaking metaphorically about his poetry and creativity as being cyclical and ongoing.