Process Of Painting/Healing: A Poem By Carole Guthrie
I listen to music when I paint sometimes,
believing the mood will cover the canvas.
When the Scottish music plays,
I think of heather, and the Royal
botanical gardens of Edinburgh, the city
that lies beneath a castle.
That's when the brush gets dipped into sap green
and cobalt blue, and the vacant space of the white canvas
is filled with oozing wet acrylics,
waiting for a composition.
When I place the color, form takes over and I can
see the mists rising in the glens and the pipers
emerging in a plaid row.
And the painting houses the reality in its abstract forms.
Sometimes I read poetry before I paint.
If I read Plath, it's going to be a dark canvas
with small hints of light between the acra red geometry and shadows.
At times I feel I can almost melt into the canvas,
when the music and the poetry
become the canvas.
And that's all that matters.
And I am healed.
Carole Guthrie, 2013