It doesn’t pretend to be anything else. Not representation nor avatar. No hint of face or figure. No vase of flowers. Shapes and lines arranged in space, proximate or distant. Dynamic symmetry. A straw-yellow rectangle floats low on a field of Barraba blue. Shapes and lines. A painting replicated on screen, a beguiling simplicity. Shapes and lines glazed into tiny tiles of light. Smoothed into a single plane. An image flensed of dimension. Glossed like so much we see these days, sequence of gestures and order of events erased. Standing before the thing itself, it doesn’t pretend to be anything else. Painting. Object without object. Not representation nor avatar. A thing you could touch. Has been touched. A woman’s hand stroked this board with brush. Action and hesitation preserved as texture, tracks of bristle and filament. Illusions of simplicity fall away yet clarity persists. A sequence of gestures, an order of events. Complicating layers. Discretion and ambiguity. Even pure thought requires organs and this material geometry has more than two dimensions. Humanity. Up close, the lines are enlivened by fleshy lumps, corporeal bulges. Dynamic, not rigid. Colours clear, not simple. Planes with space for relationship. Shapes and lines of friends, confidantes, lovers, teachers, students, collaborators, colleagues, correspondents, rivals, companions. These categories are not exclusive. Each shape its own blend of line and colour, not a template. Part of a wider arrangement, not static but changing. In passionate conversation or silent communion. Proximate or distant. That soothes, seeming compliant, or provokes speculation. A zigzag, all angles. A pink circle that hovers, unentangled. Between them, a queer line that refuses to be angle or curve. That wanders over and under tonal layers that obscure and reveal. Discretion and ambiguity. Abstraction and construction. Energetic tension. Shapes and lines arranged in dynamic symmetry across the plane of a lifespan. Shapes transformed by relationship and time. By the gesture of a letter, a caress, a debate, a reconciliation. A farewell. By venturing together across thresholds into unexplored territories of body and mind. By deliberate composition in spacious fields of planes and lines. Vanguard of a precious few who embrace new geometry, dynamic symmetry. Employ discretion and ambiguity as liberation. Construct thoughts and paintings and lives with deliberation. Leave templates behind. 

 

 

Footnote: This poem is an ekphrastic response to Painting, 1951 by Grace Crowley commissioned in partnership with National Gallery of Australia.

The phrase ‘discretion and ambiguity’ is taken from the article (and essay excerpt) ‘My only home is your heart’ by Anne O’Hehir, published on the NGA website: https://nga.gov.au/stories-ideas/my-only-home-is-your-heart/

Look at something two ways: directly and/or mediated: through a window, in a mirror or reproduction, technology (screen? scan?), or in translation (alt text? audio description?). Explore your doubled vision.

Jacqui Malins
#30in30 #PoetryMonth

For me, poetry is a focusing lens and spotlight for my attention. A miners lamp and pickaxe.

A game to play and, on a good day, a small revelation.