What happens in a an art school
when the doors are locked,
and the motley crew have gone home.
When the paints are capped,
the brushes cleaned,
the welding kit unplugged,
shapeless clay lays lumpen in bins,
the tape editor is blank-screened,
and the textiles folded away?
Do the ideas have a secret life?
Do small exploratory tendrils
of Burnt Umber,
or Hunter Green,
Cobalt Blue,
or eye-popping Crimson
wriggle out under locked doors,
looking to express themselves?
Do they graffiti the walls,
and then vanish when Security
makes his night patrol?
Chasing away dreams and shadows
with his harsh lamp.
Do silks and modern materials compete,
arguing over weight and drape
as they wrap around dummies?
Does the phantom blue flame
dance in the metal workshop?
It’s not for us to know.
But there are times, we all know this,
when the tools and materials,
humble or fancy, capture the artist,
making them dance to an unwritten tune.
How very beautiful… Don’t know how I missed this. Loving the rich descriptors, hues and textures here. Art for art’s sake. Creatives know this, surely. Sometimes we’re just their instruments instead.
Little hint if you want it: title is a bit flat, it could use a bit of concrete imagery or movement (more engaging) imo.
Title was just a placeholder, so I’ll definitely think about it.
Usually titles suggest themselves either before or soon after the poem. In this case it didn’t.
I do remember it was originally just labelled on my computer as ‘For Jane’, because I wrote it for a cousin who was, thirty plus years ago, a student at that particular college. Back when it was an untidy collection of outbuildings at a local school, rather than the new purpose built premises.
I don’t see her often, but it made her day.
Even as a child she had the searching/recording eyes of a ‘creative’.
People like us recognise each other, even if it’s just with a nod of acknowledgement in passing.
‘A Splash of Colour’ is currently trying to worm itself into my consciousness as a possible title. If it won’t go away I may have to accept it
It was a follow up to the one I call Art Students which appeared in the old place but I’ll put it up here as well.
