I knew just where I was
this time yesterday -
the old familiar smells
of linseed turps and oils,
sounds of easels dragging
over dusty floorboards -
clips klinking, restraining
paper on drawing boards,
the scratch and scrape of
charcoal on cold-press, and
my kind of people, buzzing...
hush, consider the model,
a young guy, slim, long-
haired, cute with Lennon
specs and aquiline nose -
just my type in a former life,
Five years since I last used
conte - now back to black,
smudged on grey - what an
artist's dream was Amy...
the boy-tutor hovers - I show
him my knackered hands,
tell him I daren't stay long
mustn't make them worse -
tentative at first, then better
and stronger and into it now
so how can I leave - just a
quick one before the break,
a few minutes to chat and
peek at others' work, it's all so
familiar - I can't go yet, I have
to stay, this always happens -
to hell with my hands and my
back, I'm all adrenaline now -
a new friend tells me she used
to teach - me too I say - gin and
tonic next week, she whispers,
and we laugh, we're conspirators.
Time called at last, am I really
still here - must get back, spray
the drawings, the can's nearly
empty, but oh yeah, I've still got it -
sod the writing lark, not really
my bag, not my bag at all
Now rest the hands - remember
to buy more fixative for next week,
count down the days, I'll only do an
hour though, not a minute more...

Comments
insertponceyfre... | August 28, 2011 - 11:38
This is wonderful seashore. Don't give up on the writing though!
Silver Spun Sand | August 28, 2011 - 12:20
I couldn't agree with insert more, Coral;-) Tina
skinner_jennifer | August 28, 2011 - 12:34
Hi coral,
I read this piece with such interest, it sounds so
familiar, but for me it's with the wrist and arms
and my neck, as I have arthritis in my neck, but
you have thrown yourself into this poem and you've
really inspired me to pick up the paintbrush.
I hope you don't give up on the writing, because
you've so much to offer and I think your writing
is incredible.
keep at it and congrats on the cherries, well
deserved.
Jenny.
seashore | August 28, 2011 - 12:37
Cheers insert - really appreciate your comment and no, guess I won't - a bit tongue-in-cheek really though I know which I find easier!
seashore | August 28, 2011 - 12:39
Hi Tina - thanks so much for that!
seashore | August 28, 2011 - 12:50
Oh Jenny - another coincidence, as my problems started with repetitive strain injuries to wrists (making jewellery) then moved upwards too! The hands developed strange bumps on the backs after last exhibition several years ago - there's a fancy name for them but basically it's also an arthritic condition so you have all my sympathies. I'm so sorry about your arthritis as I know you also love painting. Can you do any at all? I get so terrified of more pain and problems that I have avoided all artwork until last week when I found advert for this class - opposite where I live. I actually only did an hour and a bit and then came home but I love life dawing and couldn't resist! x
skinner_jennifer | August 28, 2011 - 14:11
Hi coral,
it's so good to know you have got a class just
across the road from where you live, that is so
handy.
I know what you mean about repetitive strain injury,
that is how I think I got my problems from. You see
I used to work in a factory, doing the same job,
sometimes for 12 hours a night, my head used to be
bent over, which eventually caused me to have a bit
of a lump in the back of my neck, (not quite the
hunchback of notradamme.) sorry about the spelling.
But like you, I can still do painting, but not for
long periods, it's the same with typing and writing.
We just have to do these things we love in small
doses.
Take care of yourself.
Jenny.
seashore | August 28, 2011 - 14:35
Yes Jenny - same for me with writing and typing! I have voice recognition for when it's really bad but don't like using it unless I have to. Your old job sounds a nightmare! As you say though, it's all about pacing. You take care too, Coral x
luigi_pagano | August 28, 2011 - 15:58
This is a very good sketch, perhaps just as good as the one you did in Art class.
The model, the one in John Lennon glasses and aquiline nose, did you draw him in the nude?
Luigi x
seashore | August 28, 2011 - 17:43
Thanks so much, Luigi. I actually managed two drawings (not counting the one I binned) and yes he was definitely nude - I double-checked! Coral x
Overthetop1 | August 28, 2011 - 21:55
This is lovely. It could only have been written by a true artist (as well as writer of course!).
seashore | August 28, 2011 - 22:06
What a lovely comment, OTT. Many thanks.
fatboy74 | August 29, 2011 - 11:52
It must be wonderful to be able to paint and horribly frustrating that you can't as much as you want - this is a very good example of why you must keep writing though, the opening in particular is vividly described - really good. :-)
seashore | August 29, 2011 - 12:24
Absolutely right, FB. It is frustrating and at the moment I'm sticking with the conte and not getting the paints out in case I get too carried away! However it's also one of the main reasons I took up writing as I very rarely did any when all my time was taken up making art - so not all bad. Strange how often it takes something art-related to provide me with the inspiration for writing though. Or maybe not...
Thanks a lot for feedback.
Highhat | August 29, 2011 - 16:55
That sounds really good with your art class but not so good with arthritis. Please go on writing about it- it is so inspiring to read about your creavtivity and also the way you express it is also creative- so now you are double gifted. Well done- wish I was so lucky- couldn't even draw a straight line with a ruler...
;)Pia
shoe | August 29, 2011 - 17:36
I hope you find room for both in your life as I would miss your wonderful poems, Your love and passion of art really shows in this poem, a unique and lovely combination.
seashore | August 29, 2011 - 22:22
Thanks so much Pia - though to be honest I also have trouble drawing straight lines with rulers so I'm not that gifted!! Cx
seashore | August 29, 2011 - 22:30
Shoe, thanks so much for such a generous comment - it means a great deal to me.
Prettyrose | August 30, 2011 - 00:16
Hi Seashore :0 I agree with Jenny, you are a brilliant writer and so much talent in all quarters, from what I read about you.
Well Done again.
Keep Writing
Keep Smiling :)
seashore | August 30, 2011 - 08:57
I don't feel at all deserving of the compliments Prettyrose but it means a great deal to know when someone appreciates one's labours - and more often than not it is a labour! This one was easier than most however - what a relief...
Thanks again.x
barryj1 | August 30, 2011 - 18:41
I had to looked up the word 'knackered' which is British slang in order to understand what was going on with the hands. What you did with this poem was, in effect, to paint a picture of painting a picture. The imagery really jumped off the page at me and I loved the notion of the empty can of fixative and the mental note toward the end to buy more.
This is real gem. I don't know why but it just is. I'm at work right now and it's 3:40 in the afternoon in Massachusetts. I'll go home and at some point later tonight I will tell my wife about this poignant poem, Home is where the art is and I can already anticipate her response. She'll want me to turn the computer on so she, too, can read it.
seashore | August 30, 2011 - 19:23
Barry - your comments mean a great deal to me, especially the way you describe my poem as a `gem' without knowing why.....you seem to have picked up on the fact that this one was purely instinctive and an almost immediate response to drawing again after a long, painful break. I quite often struggle with writing and it takes many drafts before I get there -and sometimes I never do - but though I had no idea if this was any good or not I knew I `felt' it, if you see what I mean.
Thank you so much and I hope your wife likes it too.
barryj1 | August 30, 2011 - 19:40
Over the past forty years, I've played trumpet in jazz bands (mostly bebop and mainstream), symphony orchestras and pit bands for musicals (i.e. tons of fun!!!) Lately I had to stop playing in public because I don't have the stamina or lung power so I make sweet music at home in the basement and fantasize about the old days.
This infintely clever poem Home is where the art is is something everyone who has had to regroup in later years can relate to. The poem is really a metaphor for how we bend without breaking, reconfigure our lives to retain the richness as certain abilities fade and others drift to the forefront.
When I said, "I don't know why but it just is," that's precisely what I had in mind. "Painting, music, basket weaving... it doesn't matter what the medium. By the way, I recently chucked the trumper in favor of a short model cornet with a British-style, brass band mouthpiece. So even an old horse can learn new tricks!!! As I see it, that's what this poem is all about and it is, most definitely, one of your best so you can put whatever reservations you might have had about it's merits to an early bed.
ScoZen | August 30, 2011 - 21:36
Not good for the skin
"...charcoal on cold-press..."
ps
Making jewellery...art...writing.
I'm quite envious seashore
seashore | August 30, 2011 - 22:26
Thanks for furher explanation, Barry. Yes that's it exactly - I will think of you playing your cornet as I hunch over computer....
seashore | August 30, 2011 - 22:41
No need to be envious ScoZen - you of all people!It's all about creativity anyway and my abilities pretty much end there...
I have often wondered if subconsciously I self-sabotage though as everything I take up seems to affect me physically, possibly partly due to not doing things by half measures. I'm learning with the writing however - because it's a harder medium for me, it's easier to `pace' myself. Mustn't tempt fate.
Not good for the skin eh? Charcoal or the cold-press or both?
Sikander | August 31, 2011 - 22:49
Loved this! A beautiful evocation of the atmosphere of the studio and the passion of the artist - without any baggy writing or lose words. Honest and really drew (excuse the pun!) me in.
seashore | September 1, 2011 - 07:51
Hi Sikander - thanks so much for reading and leaving such a great comment. Much appreciated.
Steve | September 2, 2011 - 10:38
Very nicely cut. Almost a collage but coherent.
seashore | September 2, 2011 - 14:00
Thanks so much for that very special comment, Steve.
MaggieG | September 5, 2011 - 15:13
" Show me. Don't tell me " That is what my tutors used to say.
You SHOW extremely well :)
seashore | September 5, 2011 - 16:10
That's really kind of you and thank you MaggieG.
phase2 | September 14, 2011 - 19:28
I'm so very glad you wrote this. Favourite time of my life was foundation year, and it brought it right back, specially the sound of charcoal, I used to love that, the squeak as you did a curve. And your sort of people. The release of finding like minds :0) The sense of excitement (I didn't realise anyone else felt that, they all seemed so self assured in my year) So hope you can keep at it. My brother gave me some magnolia pills when I mentioned I couldn't hold pastels/paintbrushes/peel potatoes etc and they have helped like anything? They are awefully expensive, and unlike you, I don't actually have anything wrong, just go into cramp, but please give them a try, if you can?
seashore | September 14, 2011 - 19:54
Hi phase 2 - like you my first memory of walking into art college was one of a feeling of belonging, even though I too saw myself as an `underdog' at first. Thanks so much for commenting and for the suggestion re magnolia - I thought I'd tried just about everything else but that's a new one to me so will definitely give it a try and will let you know how it goes.