thought bubble, Monotype of the Day #658

Day 288 of Year 2 (Actually Day 293)

This piece and the yellow piece from two nights ago were both done using the ghost ink from the night before they were made. The ghost ink dried enough so when I rolled the fresh ink on top the next day, it kept its form instead of being mixed in. I like the delicate, ephemeral quality this technique brings to the image.
I am posting tonight's poem because we are all a little peckish here and the house feels worn out with our constant presence. We are in a time of ups and downs and I know it us only a matter of time until this passes and we, in our little quarantined world, are in harmony again. This poem reminds me of the beauty and possibility in home (both inner and outer).

The Work of Happiness
By May Sarton

I thought of happiness, how it is woven
Out of the silence in the empty house each day
And how it is not sudden and it is not given
But is creation itself like the growth of a tree.
No one has seen it happen, but inside the bark
Another circle is growing in the expanding ring.
No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,
But the tree is lifted by this inward work
And its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.

So happiness is woven out of the peace of hours
And strikes its roots deep in the house alone:
The old chest in the corner, cool waxed floors,
White curtains softly and continually blown
As the free air moves quietly about the room;
A shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed wall --
These are the dear familiar gods of home,
And here the work of faith can best be done,
The growing tree is green and musical.

For what is happiness but growth in peace,
The timeless sense of time when furniture
Has stood a life's span in a single place,
And as the air moves, so the old dreams stir
The shining leaves of present happiness?
No one has heard thought or listened to a mind,
But where people have lived in inwardness
The air is charged with blessing and does bless;
Windows look out on mountains and the walls are kind.

From May Sarton: Collected Poems https://amzn.to/2zMRtfu A wonderful book! Shout out to https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/ where I

the artist takes a direction, the artist takes a message, Monotype of the Day #484

484.jpg

Day 118 of Year 2 (Actually Day 119)

A Voice
By May Sarton

Blurred as though it has been woken
From an underground and secret river,
This voice itself and not the language spoken
Has made the air around me shiver.

Seductive sound, mysterious chord
That speaks its message in the very timbre
And not in a to be deciphered word
That I might hunt down or remember.

It wanders through my dreams and there I learn
I have to make the journey, have to go,
Whatever I must change or overturn
To reach the source, so strong this undertow.

Like a tapped glass the shivered air
Echoes and echoes a single poignant note.
That voice, where does it live? I must go there,
Comfort, entreat, and bless the magic throat.

From May Sarton, Collected Poems: https://amzn.to/32sHPXR

the artist accepts life, Monotype of the Day #453

Day 87 of Year 2 (Actually Day 88)

This image haunted me all day.

Unison Benediction
by May Sarton

Return to the most human,
nothing less will nourish the torn spirit,
the bewildered heart,
the angry mind:
and from the ultimate duress,
pierced with the breath of anguish,
speak of love.

Return, return to the deep sources,
nothing less will teach the stiff hands a new way to serve,
to carve into our lives the forms of tenderness
and still that ancient necessary pain preserve.

Return to the most human,
nothing less will teach the angry spirit,
the bewildered heart;
the torn mind,
to accept the whole of its duress,
and pierced with anguish...
at last, act for love.

https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Poets/S/SartonMay/UnisonBenedi/index.html To get the book: https://amzn.to/35ibOof