Artist’s Journal: NUMBER 36

BLACK IS WHITE, LEFT IS RIGHT

What matters?

The painter paints alone.

You, I, we see it, hung

up on

the wall

there it is

– – we care, or

don’t

what

matters

?

We lithographers, etchers or inkers of

woodcuts, we’re fortunate, we

know

what matters

.

The artist tells us – –

too this too that more

this more that we

begin as we

sweat to

know

 

it does

matter

 

this line, a hair

off

 

this color, a

mite

 

bright, this

shape, I

can’t

 

how could I

die, leaving

 

a shape

like

that

?

I found this poem.  I’m not sure if the author is Will Petersen (as it states on the bottom of the sheet along with X 82) the artist (1928 – 1994) but, I liked what I read.

If it is the Will Petersen, he was part of the Beat Generation which, explains the poem’s form and, a contemporary of Jack Kerouac who, in a 1957 letter wrote, “ If and when you write to Will Petersen, tell him I think he is a great man and to keep up the good work.”

Indeed, “how could I die, leaving a shape like that?” is a thought that haunt most of us who know what matters.

Posted on: 13/01/2013, by :
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