Snap Gallery Show Invite
Ca in front of her paintings
The Snap Gallery opening last Thursday was great. I was very interested to see the work of the other artists. 14 of us were given poems by curator and Snap Gallery director Barry Dumka and asked to make something in relationship to it. My poem was Pre-Raphaelite Pinups by Elaine Equi. It goes like this:
No one is saying how it came to be this way.
Sex is and is not part of the picture.
Too many people
wearing too many clothes
thinking too few things.
The wallpaper is the real center of attention,
the figures mostly background music.
There is a rhythm to their eating.
One contemplates his wine,
another drinks it.
I never noticed it before,
but that angel's feet are on fire!
It's a penitent's head
they've pasted on a voluptuous body.
Why, she's practically an insect herself.
Look how many worlds are woven
with the silly-string of the Fates.
The wheat field was like a drive-in movie
for the shepherd and his date.
The berry-boy offers his handful of red
to the gray little girl.
It's all in the fold,
the fertility dance of being draped over...
One could panel a library
with the grain of her hair.
Can't you see I'm just a poor,
blind, accordion-playing lesbian?
Do not disturb the visionary butterfly
at work in me.
The heretic wears a pretty demonic
apron and crown,
while Medusa's blue hair net
tangles even the trees.
A squirrel, a robin:
an army of innocence
waits to molest a young girl -
asleep and unaware.
But isn't every story an allegory - every house strewn
with alchemical symbols like these?
Ach - but that rainbow is loud!
Sex is and is not part of the picture.
Too many people
wearing too many clothes
thinking too few things.
The wallpaper is the real center of attention,
the figures mostly background music.
There is a rhythm to their eating.
One contemplates his wine,
another drinks it.
I never noticed it before,
but that angel's feet are on fire!
It's a penitent's head
they've pasted on a voluptuous body.
Why, she's practically an insect herself.
Look how many worlds are woven
with the silly-string of the Fates.
The wheat field was like a drive-in movie
for the shepherd and his date.
The berry-boy offers his handful of red
to the gray little girl.
It's all in the fold,
the fertility dance of being draped over...
One could panel a library
with the grain of her hair.
Can't you see I'm just a poor,
blind, accordion-playing lesbian?
Do not disturb the visionary butterfly
at work in me.
The heretic wears a pretty demonic
apron and crown,
while Medusa's blue hair net
tangles even the trees.
A squirrel, a robin:
an army of innocence
waits to molest a young girl -
asleep and unaware.
But isn't every story an allegory - every house strewn
with alchemical symbols like these?
Ach - but that rainbow is loud!
It’s a great poem - I love it. I particularly zeroed in on three verses for my work:
1. Why, she's practically an insect herself.
2. One could panel a library with the grain of her hair.
3. Do not disturb the visionary butterfly at work in me.
1. Why, she's practically an insect herself.
2. One could panel a library with the grain of her hair.
3. Do not disturb the visionary butterfly at work in me.
It was very interesting working this way - responding to poetic imagery, doing my own thing with it. I want to do more experimenting with this method, so I’m looking around for poetry to inspire me. I love how the poem Barry gave to me has qualities of 19th century poetry, but it is totally modern in its sensibility. This makes it very much in line with the sort of thing that I like to do with my own painting and other visual work.
Thanks Barry for inviting me to be a part of the show.
The show continues until April 14 at Snap Gallery.
SNAP IS LOCATED AT:
190 West 3rd Avenue Vancouver BC
info[at]snapcontemporaryart.com
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