One of my writing/artist friends was inspired by one of my abstract paintings and the poems of Emily Dickenson to write this piece. The painting is shown below it.
“A little madness in the spring"- a burst of vibrant red oozing from its center. It’s center containing a secret, a lurking non committal figure, purely abstract striking each of us differently. Mixing not one, not two, but a triad of emotion. Red over powering red, upon red, around red. Begin with red--use red to express the devilish work of Our Secret. In the center is a pumper, a structurally sound heart of sorts that enables us to not only see the abstract but attach to it meaning-- almost giving it a face. Putting a pulse in the painting. Reviving us once the pulse reaches us. We stand observing the abstract with the resemblance of blood on our clothing--on our face. We are an extension of this painting just by being present in this place, on this day when the heart of this piece reaches out to us...drawing us in to get a closer look...to allow us to swing in its depths and be alive with its power. We question the heart within us...are we friends with delight or pain? The devilish nature of its extended tentacles grab us and pull us in and we pump....alongside the abstract and we reach the next observers as they come close to view the center. We reach them with red. We pump our vengeance onto them ...the quiet observers who thought they were just window shopping this evening. And now drawn in like they’ve walked into a spiders web. The red covers them and they are guided in by us as we say “I shall not wait”...we are thrown from their pumping to the floor, a bloody carcass of which we went in, now they have taken over. We scramble to our feet, running amok throughout this gallery having been transformed by the piece entitled Our Secret, and we think we know now how this painting got its name. To observe is to be drawn in–used—then discarded. The painting is victorious, but the victory comes late. “Last to be identified.” -- by Kim Barhite (words in quotes by Emily Dickenson)
