Art Appreciation

And if I can’t play the music

that drenches me

with the presence of beauty,

that flows down my arms

and fills my mouth

and ripples me with shimmers

from the sun

Perhaps this standing in it

is still worth something —

perhaps this gratitude

for its existence,

this rising joy, all-in reverberation

still serves a function —

gives the music someone who believes.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 1, 2020

Color

Dip your toe in color,

let the sensation spread

through your feet and up —

nothing stops the flood of light

No suction is required, no raking,

rubbing or coercing the color in —

it reaches your head and fingertips

in an instant,

you can feel its hum,

you can taste the pinks and purples

on your tongue

You can’t just walk away,

picture snapped — 

you have been changed.

You’ll feel it in your steps

throughout the day.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 5, 2019

Reflections at Year’s End

The last day of the year

dawns foggy, and continues overcast.

We sleep later than our habit,

tendrils of memories

interspersing themselves

with dreams, and with images

of streams, currents of possibility

weaving open and closed,

forming lenticular shapes along the flow

Artistic expressions from others’ lives

placed up against my own

invite reflection

These days we keep being asked

to take a side. I will not take a side,

for that is what conquers us.

I will take a stand.

I will stand for what is free and true,

I will stand for ribbons of stream flow

braiding lives into thirst-quenching unity,

I will stand for the excitement

of streaming, soul to soul,

along the course of life,

I will stand for pure reflective pools

and the welcoming in

of everything that yearns,

everything that hears.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 31, 2016

If it is art

If it is art

it will build on everything

that came before it,

and it will add something —

the excitement of

the fresh curve of cresting wave,

bright froth touched

by this singular breath of wind,

the clean erasure of past footprints

and its new line on crusted sand

brought here through

swells that built across the sound,

carrying each signal

of ships, of currents,

fish and whales,

the deep memory of ancient water

and the surface memory

that knows the oneness

to which it constantly returns

If it is art

it will touch your skin

in just that way —

so much truth laid down

in the communion of your viewing.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 4, 2015

vessel by Jennifer McCurdy

photo by Julius Friedman

Subtle Loveliness — Three Sketches

1.

I see the moon through mist,

I see the subtle loveliness of clouds

that move like lace across her face,

and how she laughs as they change her shape

just for a moment

2.

I think about the spread of colors, where they appear —

Red rolling into green through luxurious russets,

Golds darkening to ambers in the rich wood,

Plum, wine, umber, concentrate to near black:

It comes clear to me why pink is not a part of red

though sky and ocean share the name of blue

3.

I think of what I see as I drift towards dream,

how colors rise up out of darkness

and when, to my closed eyes, 

the light of thought appears,

defining the forms as they emerge from shifting splotches

carrying me off into the vision that reprises

all the things I didn’t know I saw.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 2, 2015

Artwork

Reality

sets up like paint —

things are blocked in,

they change,

refinements are added

in color and shadow

and things dimly glimpsed

become clearer,

remote possibilities

suddenly seen

as the way things are

and had to be

(wasn’t it obvious?)

We walk by turns

entranced, bemused, euphoric,

through the colors of becoming

Reality

sets up like paint

beneath the artist’s hand.

©Wendy Mulhern

February 6, 2015

Colors

I came back high

from riding colors,

swooping like a swallow

down the many currents

of perception

Feeling the excitement,

the waking up inside

of all that saturation,

steeping myself in the burnt sienna

of dried leaves after frost,

cleansing my palate 

in distant sage of afternoon spruce,

intoxicated

with sun-soaked golden green

against a shaded hollow

and enchanting russet of sunset

on bare tree limbs

It was enough

to fill me up,

to satisfy an unacknowledged need

and inundate my moments before sleep

with all those combinations,

infusing me with unexpected joy.

©Wendy Mulhern

December 1, 2014