ART ISN’T EASY

 

Colour
catches on canvas as we lean towards light,
a beam to break the boredom like a breath
above the water after diving up from darkness,
ripples run across the current,
ink spreads out like veins upon this page;

art isn’t easy, breathing isn’t any better-

both come up from down below,
rise through risk into life, into looking lively.
The texture of the wave is as temperamental
as the tone that sets itself out upon the page.
I dab the brush, horse hair taps connections
and colour comes at a gallop. It is clear-

control is not concerned with the creator.

This body needs air, runs broken, breathless-
breath and then less and less and less
and sometimes, sometimes I need to turn back

and teach the lungs how to draw. In.

Ink dries and petals stand, enchanting time
with their dismission of the word wilt.
Colour catches on canvas, clear and captured
and I lean in with the hope of drawing fresh
breath before the dive recalls me to paint
panic.

   

All words and paintings by Damien B. Donnelly

2 thoughts on “ART ISN’T EASY

  1. merrildsmith

    I love this, Damien. A wonderful metaphor and beautiful language.
    When one of my daughters was about 8, she had several panic attacks, but we didn’t know what it was. I remember a middle of the night visit to a pediatric center–but I finally figured out it was the sudden comprehension that people die.

    Sending you virtual hugs. Breathe.

    (Coincidentally, the NaPoWriMo prompt today is the language of flowers.)

    1. deuxiemepeau

      Thank you Merril. I am good now, getting better and calmer and looking on the little tremors as more reminders of what was than what will be. Thank you for the hugs. Sorry I am late in replying, after the gardening we moved indoors and I’m now painting and about to wallpaper. 🤭😂🤗

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