Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.
My Dad once said the problem with modern society is that people don’t read poetry anymore. I don’t know if it’s true, but it gave me something to think about. Have we lost touch with that warm and expansive part of our hearts where deep feelings await expression? Dad was often seen balancing one of his hard bound classical treasures easily on one large hand, immersed in the world he loved. How many times did he rise up to write?
Dad loved to write poetry too and once gathered together family poetry from generations past into a book for each of us kids. It inspired me to join the ranks of a long line of family poets, to allow words to tumble out through my own bulging veins. Passion runs deep in the Bell clan.
So why am I talking about poetry? Because it captures the essence of our world, our human nature, and the boundless creativity inside each of us. It speaks of passion and conflict, records history, sings songs, inspires and informs, and is a calming respite from reality. It’s an opening, a suggestion. It clears clouded thinking and gives space for a more balanced perspective. It is pure joy, and sometimes very funny.