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The Poet's Chair

‘Poets are not to blame for how things are’

Telemachus to his mama, Penelope, in The Odyssey

The Poet's Chair, acrylic on canvas, 40 x 30inches

Another morning in the kitchen. Writing about this piece will be a bit of free verse.

Slanting glow flowing through limbos and strainers -

Edges and contours,

The architecture of home,

Coffee cups piled on a metal chair

A table leg that rhymes with the posts on my front porch.

The geometry of shadows

Of linoleum

Floor trim, air vent, and window sill

Woven into a corner by the morning

A thin curtain made blue by the light outside

This one continued a process of starting with the observed and veering into the improvised; I'm trying to loosen up. It may seem strange but I feel that much of my work has been like doing music in a studio, and these pieces (I think/feel/hope) are trying to be 'performed' live. I've included a brief video showing moments towards the end of the painting.

When painting The Poet’s Chair, I was thinking about Homer and Edward Hopper, the latter being the one who made me ‘see’ what was going on. I’ve had a long time admiration for Andrew Wyeth and how he wanted to be a disembodied eye peering into corners and through windows at the slanted-light worlds he inhabited in Maine and Pennsylvania. My world may be more soaked in light.

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