Thursday, February 16, 2012

Puppy: A personal sonnet

For I used to be an only child
The lone wolf puppy was how I was seen
Then one day he came, so spry so wild.
Two years in mutt, but in human fourteen.
Like the sun that sits alone in the sky
Some unique days the moon joins him in light
For I can see in my boyish mind’s eye
Their friendship has grown forever airtight

Rare are canines that have moustache and beard
Brindle all over, pure white on his chest
The rest of the fam'ly thinks he looks weird
But I can tell he is nothing but best.

For my home was just me, Dad and Mother,
Puppy came in and gave me a Brother.

Monday, February 6, 2012

3 January 2012 poems

Picasso Poem:                                     

There is always someone there
Someone hiding within
My lesser self
My lesser half

There is always something missing
One thing that got away
The thing I never had
The thing I’ll never say

Resting in my armchair
Just trying to forget
Always feeling broken
My needs are rarely met

On the surface I am one
Another lies just under
Just under is what you can’t see
Just under is the real me

Deformed, misshapen
I am so incomplete
Finding you inside myself
Always makes me weep.

What happens to the cherry blossoms?

What happens to the Cherry Blossoms bloom?
The pink leaves up high,
gracing the city streets.
So quickly turning brown,
meeting doom.

The white snow melts
as jackets are lost.
Warm winds hint in the air
Goodbye my frost.

Pink is the new grey
For what seems like
Only one day
It all goes green
In a flash.

What is Poetry?                  
            
Reading a poem is
admiring art.
Scanning the page
Like the halls of a museum.

Choosing your favorite
Words, passages, pieces.
Which one moves you
 colors, textures, materials.

Loosing yourself,
Endlessly
Finding yourself.

Poetry, like the library
Of songs
Floating around my head
Makes me feel.


Thursday, February 2, 2012

Picasso Reflection




When given the chance to research an iconic artist I chose Pablo Picasso. Being the son of José Ruiz black sale and Maria Picasso Lopez wife was difficult. At the age of 10 little Pablo had to mourn the loss of his youngest sister. Picasso lived in one of the best outlets for what he did best paint. Beautiful cathedrals and architecture made Spain an inspirational place for an artist to live. Picasso a had good painter’s pedigree, his Dad was an accomplished painter and an art teacher and from a very young age, Pablo showed real talent for art. Picasso lived a tortured life perhaps events like his girlfriend committing suicide is what lead him to his sexual and twisted paintings. Picasso’s paintings show what seems to be hatred towards women. Although his paintings are often viewed as violent we can all agree that he was a thought provoking an inspiring painter.

Picasso is one of the founders of the Cubist Movement but he worked in many different mediums and his work is grouped together by periods. Picasso was innovative and challenged conventional art but his training was very traditional. At the age of 13 he admitted into the School of Fine Arts in Barcelona and soon after that he went to study at the Royal Academy of San Fernando, the most prestigious art school in Madrid. In 1901, Picasso’s Blue period began followed by the Rose period in 1905 and the African Influenced Period in 1908 and finally Cubism in 1909. Each of theses periods had their own unique characteristics and back stories. The Blue period is full of shades of blues and greens and has subjects that are often blind and under fed. The Rose period had more color and life; its subjects are often circus people, acrobats and harlequins. Cubism is a form of picking apart objects and analyzing their shapes, this period is characterized by his use of browns and neutral tones.


In 1929, Picasso painted the Large Nude in a Red Arm Chair. This is clearly a painting that gives you a feeling of unrest. A woman, sitting in an arm chair is melting out of herself. Her face looks tortured and pained, her mouth opened wide in horror. She has deformed, elongated limbs and her womanly body parts are misshapen and distorted. The part of her that is melting out seems incomplete, she feels like just half a woman with only one breast. A window is at the top of the painting, could this be a possible way out, an escape that she may one day take? Or is that a blank painting, showing the nothingness of her life?

The nude in a Red Armchair
(my Picasso poem about the painting I observed)

There is always someone there
Someone hiding within
My lesser self
My lesser half

There is always something missing
One thing that got away
The thing I never had
The thing I’ll never say

Resting in my armchair
Just trying to forget
Always feeling broken
My needs are rarely met

On the surface I am one
Another lies just under
Just under is what you can’t see
Just under is the real me

Deformed, misshapen
I am so incomplete
Finding you inside myself
Always makes me weep.