Category: Water

The Commute. {Poetry}

swimrainroad

Smudged ink

as wisdom curves into words

as sounds of a violin
play through the radio waves

dissolving
with the drizzling drops of rain
on the roof,

you glance through the fine layers of glass
to see a thousand black dots flying eastward,

crows moving like the commuters
on the Interstate —
all as one, but each
one
as one
within

a microcosm of silence

as each flap of a wing,
every rotation of a tire,
every quick thought that rolls through your mind
like lightning — a streak of genius — sudden,

and then gone,

as darkness
settles once more
over the wet farmlands
and the deep taproots of oak seedlings
are finally soaked
with rain,

much like my fingers stained
by this smudge
of

black ink.

Copyright 2017  ©   Jessie Zanita Wright

Photo Credit: Comfreak/Pixabay

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Summertime in the City. {Poetry}

image

She ran to the edge of the city,
stopped, &

turned back,

wandering along the sidewalks,
under the tapestries of loving
and living

where people,
flesh and blood
moved
with feet,
not in shiny boxes turned by wheels,

where smiles
shared were returned
easily
along with the change
from buying a local bunch of beets,

where laughter
echoed along
the creek,
flowing through the city’s center,

where children played in the fountain,
splashing purple polka dots
of water
on their mother’s blue dress,

where old men sat
reading a paper,
sipping a coffee,
talking politics,
and maybe even about the way
their old lovers
kissed them good-bye,

where she leaned back
on the cobblestones,
barefeet,
at the edge of the creek,
head back,
eyes closed,
sunlight darting through,
shape shifting the dots into bright images
of the light of stars,
of the universe,
of the beauty of loving
and living
in this city.

Copyright 2016 © Jesi Zanita

The Art of Water.

 

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“Droplets of water
carry the sea green into the blue waves,
the paintbrush guides
the bleeding of two colors
into one
wild
ocean of love.” ~ Jes Wright

The Art of Water isn’t overwhelming or exhausting, but fluid in its transformation of dry pigments into a seascape.

The water’s clarity becomes a transfusion of mindfulness, as our hand guides the creation while our jumble of thoughts grow still.

In a way, watercolor is one of the more healing forms of art.

The nature of movement—in the way the water droplets roll over the paper—is gentle. It holds the connection between the core of nature and ourselves, as we can easily fall into the grace of water rolling colors into colors like miniature waves.

We fall into the Flow, getting submerged in the meditative way that a wet paintbrush can easily “erase” layers of golds and blues that ended up being too vivid for the seascape.

We slow down into the now of water as the medium, even as much as we think it’s the colors that matter the most, but it’s not. The blank spaces left in between the ultramarine blues & leaf green create a balance between what we see & what we think we see, as can be the same in our relationships.

The shine of emptiness adds and subtracts from our shadowy sides.

So do we look for the things that are left unsaid—the blank spaces—as flecks of gold? As a potential for creating more beautiful art in the daily waters of our world? Or do we take the remaining spaces, let the beads of water roll over them, blending the crimson with the Prussian blues? Each of us will come to that decision with the practice of art (& of relationships).

And, this blog, yes, this one has morphed into a rambling, but that is the nature of watercolor, beads of color bleed into other beads of pink or sea green until the paper becomes the art of water.

 

Copyright 2016 © Jes Wright

painting by jes.