This watercolor is called "Here You May Find Me" and is inspired by Mary Oliver's poem "Tides." Kensington Park Library in Kensington, MD, was supposed to hold an Ekphrastic Poetry art show but since it's closed, it took the form of a Zoom meeting. This type of poetry explores a piece of art and I am honored to have a poem written about my painting by my friend, Rhonda Williford. Her poem is called "You May Find Me Here" and you can enjoy it in this post (scroll down). A poem inspiring a painting inspiring a poem ... art comes full circle. What a fun experience to share. Thank you, Rhonda!
You May Find Me Here
by Rhonda Williford
You may find me here
on the path to finding
where you may find me
as the violet geologic
layers morph into the ochre --
the ochre into the viridian green.
And you may find me here,
twizzling out, as we each do,
a swirl of substance gapped
by space -- only propelled
by some unexplained sense
of propulsion, the flagellation
of a wisp of cell. Seeded
in adventure, what else
to unfold the folds,
fold them back
and burst again?
There is breath
in the color and each
color breathes each
single pulse. You may
find me here where
you may find yourself.
Something we share,
however, never identical.
Only the curves match
but not in their size
or shape. Only the unwinding
out into this world
we all unwhirl into --
whirl and whirl
silent dervish under moon
until the yolk of our song
breaks out -- right there
right here -- where
you may find me now.
All rights reserved.
by Rhonda Williford
You may find me here
on the path to finding
where you may find me
as the violet geologic
layers morph into the ochre --
the ochre into the viridian green.
And you may find me here,
twizzling out, as we each do,
a swirl of substance gapped
by space -- only propelled
by some unexplained sense
of propulsion, the flagellation
of a wisp of cell. Seeded
in adventure, what else
to unfold the folds,
fold them back
and burst again?
There is breath
in the color and each
color breathes each
single pulse. You may
find me here where
you may find yourself.
Something we share,
however, never identical.
Only the curves match
but not in their size
or shape. Only the unwinding
out into this world
we all unwhirl into --
whirl and whirl
silent dervish under moon
until the yolk of our song
breaks out -- right there
right here -- where
you may find me now.
All rights reserved.