Who knows...

[Gyppo]

Who knows...

What happens in a an art school
when the doors are locked,
and the motley crew have gone home.

When the paints are capped,
the brushes cleaned,
the welding kit unplugged,
shapeless clay lays lumpen in bins,
the tape editor is blank-screened,
and the textiles folded away?

Do the ideas have a secret life?

Do small exploratory tendrils
of Burnt Umber,
or Hunter Green,
Cobalt Blue,
or eye-popping Crimson
wriggle out under locked doors,
looking to express themselves?

Do they graffiti the walls,
and then vanish when Security
makes his night patrol?
Chasing away dreams and shadows
with his harsh lamp.

Do silks and modern materials compete,
arguing over weight and drape
as they wrap around dummies?

Does the phantom blue flame
dance in the metal workshop?

It's not for us to know.

But there are times, we all know this,
when the tools and materials,
humble or fancy, capture the artist,
making them dance to an unwritten tune.

John

[Mark]

I enjoyed the uncluttered narrative and the thesis is intriguing. And yes, the material contours and characteristics of the creative landscape will influence the directional flow and form of native creativity.   

[indar]

Visions of animated shorts from Disney Studios dance in my head.

[Gyppo]

Indar,

I must admit I saw the images moving in my head as I wrote about them.  Right down to the hulking dark shape of the unimaginative security guard plodding through the corridor and checking doors.  But he didn't need to be detailed.

As for the 'lumpen clay' I remember watching 'Jude The Potter' dig a handful of dark brown clay from her bin, and then looking at the finished items on her shop shelves, and wondering to myself at the magic and skill which changed the former to the latter.

I've always been fascinated by watching people do things which most folks can't

Gyppo