Wild Geese
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.
36 x 36”
Oil and acrylic on gallery wrapped stretched linen canvas with 2.5” deep raw wood float 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.
36 x 36”
Oil and acrylic on gallery wrapped stretched linen canvas with 2.5” deep raw wood float 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.
36 x 36”
Oil and acrylic on gallery wrapped stretched linen canvas with 2.5” deep raw wood float frame
Wild Geese
By Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.