The Transformations exhibit paired poets and visual artists for a unique collaboration. “My poet,” Marcia Denius was a delight to work with.
At our first lunch meeting we had lunch outside on a cloudy day. We used the clouds as an example as we discussed how both poetry and visual art might be inspired by them. Later, we decided to use the word transition as our springboard, and those clouds showed up in Marcia’s poetry.
DIVINING THE CLOUDS
The only thing certain about clouds is change—
a ceaseless stitching and unstitching creates
their colors and their shapes,
as fabrics or words do in a quilt or a poem.
Watching the clouds is like watching a movie without a script—
a lion crouching turns into an angel and disappears.
Thunderheads like mountains grow and shift—their heft suggests
huge rocks that float in the skies of Rene Magritte.
Clouds are changelings, shape-shifters— titans of transition.
Kaleidoscopic, they fearlessly forge new connections,
but, to take it all in, I — not the lens—
must spin in a slow, full circle, eyes wide open—
making me feel dizzy and small. Their milieu so vast,
it’s beyond my grasp and ken. Rising from the horizon,
ragged edges merge and limn the sky—their measure
as infinite as that of the coastline of Britain.
Beguiled, I look to them for a sign—try to decipher
meaning from the syllables of mist and dust—
such folly— then turn to the metaphors, copious
in their convergence, and I am transported
to a country where anything’s possible, which frees me
from all that I think I know. I keep looking skyward,
drawn in by the mystery, though aware that cloud-gazers
are often thought daft, like Hamlet or Antony.
Unhinged as our lives, they cannot be relied on.
They’ll promise sun, but surprise with rain—
so fickle, their vow may be broken
by the far-away flit of a butterfly’s wings.
Yet, the clouds’ whimsical nature belies their power:
Airy reliquaries of fire and water,
they shroud the glare of blazing truth,
of the Absolute…
while like the old gods, they vex, meting out their favor or fury.
But at this moment, I am left breathless as I lift my eyes
and behold the setting sun ignite a mackerel sky,
fill it full of tropical fish scaling the upper reaches.
For on that sky-shore is the place I long to reach—
the Cloud of Unknowing— the still point—
where I can lose myself in a final transition,
in a union so seamless neither stitching nor words are needed.
Marcia was very easy to work with and I think we both enjoyed our interaction. We agreed that our collaboration improved our work, and that it will make us think in new ways for future work.
A wonderful book was published which included 6-8 pages about each poet/artist pair. The participants decided what was to go on those pages, and many spoke of the collaboration process. Marcia and I did the same, plus I used my pages to show in-progress photos and to explain my process a little.
Click any image for a larger view.
Kathy Garvey did an excellent job with the editing and graphics of the book. It’s available from the Brevard Art Museum for $19.95. (They’ll ship, too.)
Other poets included in this exhibit are Gregory Byrd, Rick Campbell, Annette Clifford, Darlyn Finch, Lola Haskins, Michael Hettich, Ruth Moon Kempher, Fay Picardi, Bonny Barry Sanders, Jean Shepard, Miles Wallio. Also, the honorary chairman of the exhibit was Dr. Edmund Skellings, Florida’s Poet Laureate.
I’m thrilled to be part of this exhibit. I hope you’ll get a chance to see it.
Ellen Lindner
