From Symbol to Image

At long last, I am breaking my silence and attempting to overcome the writing inferiority complex that has plagued me since the founding of the artjerk website.  It is not for lack of ideas, arguments, or opinions that before this day I have not shared my perceptions, but rather a fear of the unknown.   I have always been a predominantly visual artist because it is what I love and understand, although I enjoy and respect other forms of art immensely.    At present, I can think of no better way to begin my quest for expression through written language than to discuss my chance encounter with a very well known and successful poet named Mary Oliver.

What began as an evening meant only to satisfy a curiosity became an inspiration, as so many unexpected events do, and is ultimately the reason I am writing now.   I have known many self proclaimed poets in my life, some authentic and some merely wanting to be.  I have rarely been captured by a poem,  although I have read many good ones, and I was not expecting any revelations this particular evening.   But when I heard Mary read hers poems, it was as if I could see the words rising up to paint the picture and coming back down again to rest on the page.   She wrote of trees and flowers, animals and insects, light and darkness.  Everything I saw in my mind’s eye was so vivid it seemed to take on a surreal quality that nearly stopped time.  I knew that I too wanted to create beauty such as this.

Mary not only shared her poems with us, but also lessons she had learned in her long writing career which related to any kind of creative process.  The ones that impacted me the most were; to be patient in resolving problems, to not always strive for perfection but instead strive for what works, and to make a date with your own creativity.  Creativity is always working she said, but you must find it.  After the reading, my friends and I stood with the books we had just purchased and waited for them to be signed.  As I approached the table, I opened the book to the first page and asked her to sign anywhere on this first page.  She promptly turned to the third and signed there.  I cannot help but smile when I remember this image she painted for me.