When I saw Van Gogh’s painting, “Undergrowth with Two Figures” I felt moved to write about it. And of course, as I was writing about it, I realized the reason I was inspired by the painting was because I needed to write about me. I think, when we witness beauty, whether it’s on a canvas, in sculpture, literature, a garden or in other aspects of the living world around us, we can’t help but swing into our own consciousness. We are always oscillating between our unique individuality and our place in the larger connectedness. I certainly feel that way when I am in Nature and in a beautiful garden.
"Undergrowth with Two Figures" by Vincent Van Gogh
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Undergrowth with Two Figures
Walking through the orchard this morning,
I recall your greatest mistake, and my own
Abandoned child, a daisy, a wave crest,
One last chance to make it better. Grief keeps
You in my heart like a shadow in a cell.
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Thanks for sharing that. Is that your poetry? I feel the same about work I recently saw from a local artist who represented in pastels a location I’ve been wanting to photograph for ages, but I it would be so disappointing not to get right the way it makes me feel.
Lynn, welcome to Invisible Bees! It is my poetry, yes. And I have to encourage you to try your hand at expressing the thoughts you have about those pastels. Like you, I have a deep desire “to get it right” — to capture the feeling, perfectly. But, over time, I’ve found I’m happiest with my writing and myself when I let go of my own expectations and simply follow the thread(s) where they lead. It’s kind of like embracing “volunteers” in the garden — you didn’t expect them to show up and you didn’t know you really wanted them to be there, but once you notice them and welcome them in, their beauty adds something amazing and unrivaled.