Peace of Wild Things Abstract
There are a few poems that I have returned to again and again in my life, and with each season of re-visiting they seem to have grown new lines that I never noticed before. I’ll find myself again scribbling my favorites on scraps of paper and taping them to the fridge, my bathroom mirror… anywhere I might see them and remember to remember them. This collection of poem-inspired paintings holds visual versions of my little post-it notes: a way to see and integrate poetic wisdom into our spaces and lives.
8x10”
Oil on panel with hand-painted gold frame
There are a few poems that I have returned to again and again in my life, and with each season of re-visiting they seem to have grown new lines that I never noticed before. I’ll find myself again scribbling my favorites on scraps of paper and taping them to the fridge, my bathroom mirror… anywhere I might see them and remember to remember them. This collection of poem-inspired paintings holds visual versions of my little post-it notes: a way to see and integrate poetic wisdom into our spaces and lives.
8x10”
Oil on panel with hand-painted gold frame
There are a few poems that I have returned to again and again in my life, and with each season of re-visiting they seem to have grown new lines that I never noticed before. I’ll find myself again scribbling my favorites on scraps of paper and taping them to the fridge, my bathroom mirror… anywhere I might see them and remember to remember them. This collection of poem-inspired paintings holds visual versions of my little post-it notes: a way to see and integrate poetic wisdom into our spaces and lives.
8x10”
Oil on panel with hand-painted gold frame
Peace of Wild Things
By Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.