Robert Bly

"When anyone seriously pursues an art — painting, poetry, sculpture, composing — over twenty or thirty years, the sustained discipline carries the artist down to the countryside of grief, and that descent, resisted so long proves invigorating. . . . As I've gotten older, I find I am able to be nourished more by sorrow and to distinguish it from depression."

— Robert Bly

American Poet

1926 - 

I first heard Robert Bly read poetry in 1969 while I was in college and I still own a copy of his very first book of poetry, Silence in the Snowy Fields, which I bought when he was in town and is autographed by him.  He was majestic, expansive and seemed to blow the roof off the auditorium.  I fell in love with the poetry I read in that small sixty-page book, published by Wesleyan University Press, full of images of the midwest where I was born and raised.  Years later I had another opportunity to hear Bly read and I bought a collection of his prose poems, Morning Glory.  I own a number of his poetry books and his books of translated poems.  I even bought the book that made him rich and famous, Iron John, a non-fiction book I have never been able to finish reading.  

Here is a short poem that I love.  The last two lines have the feel of Japanese haiku.

Watering the Horse

How strange to think of giving up all ambition!

Suddenly I see with such clear eyes

The white flake of snow

That has just fallen in the horse's mane!

Here is another favorite poem of mine from his first collection.  This poem evokes the feeling of the rural countryside in which I grew up.  Anyone who grew up in the rural midwest will immediately feel at home.

Three Kinds of Pleasure

        

                   I

Sometimes, riding in a car, in Wisconsin

Or Illinois, you notice those dark telephone poles

One by one lift themselves out of the fence line

And slowly leap on the gray sky —

And past them, the snowy fields.

                   II

The darkness drifts down like snow on the picked cornfields

In Wisconsin:  and on these black trees

Scattered, one by one,

Through the winter fields —

We see stiff weeds and brownish stubble,

And white snow left now only in the wheeltracks of the combine.

                  III

It is a pleasure, also, to be driving

Toward Chicago, near dark,

And see the lights in the barns.

The bare trees more dignified than ever,

Like a fierce man on his deathbed,

And the ditches along the road half full of a private snow.

Roberto Bolano

"You have to know how to look even if you don't know what you're looking for."

— Roberto Bolano

Chilean Novelist, Poet

1953 - 2003

One of the functions of artists and writers is to see the world in ways that nobody else does and at the same time help others to see the world in new ways.  I have often found that the best novels teach me new things about the world that I had not previously discovered.    Creative leaders may not know what they are looking for, but they will recognize it when they see it and they will find a way to communicate it to others.

Do you know how to look at the world?  What makes your way of viewing the world unique?  Do you know what you are looking for?  Have you found it or are you still looking?  Do you appreciate your unique vision of the world?  Have you accepted your vision of how the world should be?  Have you communicated your vision to others?

Here is a poem by Roberto Bolano from his book, The Romantic Dogs, translated by Laura Healy.

Self Portrait At Twenty Years

I set off, I took up the march and never knew
where it might take me. I went full of fear,
my stomach dropped, my head was buzzing:
I think it was the icy wind of the dead.
I don't know. I set off, I thought it was a shame
to leave so soon, but at the same time
I heard that mysterious and convincing call.
You either listen or you don't, and I listened
and almost burst out crying: a terrible sound,
born on the air and in the sea.
A sword and shield. And then,
despite the fear, I set off, I put my cheek
against death's cheek.
And it was impossible to close my eyes and miss seeing
that strange spectacle, slow and strange,
though fixed in such a swift reality:
thousands of guys like me, baby-faced
or bearded, but Latin American, all of us,
brushing cheeks with death.

Joan Miro

"I try to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music."

— Joan Miro

Spanish Artist

1893 - 1993

Hand Catching a Bird
(1968)

Our lives are touched with color whether we are artists or not.  We are attracted to color and repulsed by color.  We wake to color in the morning and some of us dream in color.  We love the color of flowers in spring and summer.  We love the color of leaves in autumn.  Our lives our filled with color.  We often buy our clothes based on color.  We paint the walls of our houses with color.  We choose the color of the car we buy.  Color is an important part of our lives.  Chefs use color to make the meal appealing.  Advertisers use color to convince us to buy things.

In a study of the colors blue and red, scientists at the University of British Columbia discovered that red makes us more cautious and attentive to details while blue makes us more creative and receptive to new ideas.  Experiments showed that with a red background people performed as much as 31 percent better on tasks like proofreading.  When blue was used, people were more open to new ideas and creative solutions.

What are your favorite colors?  Do some colors make you happy?  What colors make you sad? What colors excite you?  How does color shape your art?  What colors are you attracted to in a painting?  How does color shape your writing?  Do you use color as part of your description?  How does color affect your music?  

Red Sun

Kimon Nicolaides

"Learning to draw is really a matter of learning to see — to see correctly — and that means a good deal more than merely looking with the eye."

— Kimon Nicolaides

American Artist, Teacher, Author

1891 - 1938

The arts involve the five senses of seeing, hearing, touch, taste and smell.  We understand the world in which we live through these five senses.  How we see the world impacts our ability to draw, paint and write.  

When I arrived home yesterday, my wife asked if I had noticed a hat hanging on one of my favorite wood statues.  I had not.  She said the hat had been there for several weeks.  My visual intake of the world around me is very selective.  I never notice the clothes people wear and I could not tell you what you were wearing yesterday.  Yet, if I visit a place I have not seen in five years, I will recognize the buildings.  

I put very little description of places and people in my writing.  And when I am reading a book with a lot of description, I tend to skip over it.

On the other hand, I am very auditory.  I can hear the slightest change in the tone of a voice.  I can hear the softest of sounds.  I cannot sleep with the radio or TV playing.  But I cannot sing worth a lick.  In fact, some people would say I am tone deaf.

How do the five senses impact your painting or writing?  Are you a visual person?  An auditory person?  How about the senses of touch, taste and smell?