Blog Archives

Pearls from artists* # 289

“Danzante,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38” x 58”, in progress

“Danzante,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38” x 58”, in progress

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

I do not think it the business of a poet to become a guru.  It is his business to write poetry, and to do that he must remain open and vulnerable.  We grow through relationships of every kind, but most of all through a relationship that takes the whole person.  And it would be pompous and artificial to make an arbitrary decision to shut the door.

The problem is to keep a balance, not to fall to pieces.  In keeping her balance in her last years Louise Bogan stopped writing poems, or nearly.  It was partly, I feel sure, that the detachment demanded of the critic (and especially his absorption in analyzing the work of others) is diametrically opposed to the kind of detachment demanded of the poet in relationship to his own work.  We are permitted to become detached only after the shock of an experience has been taken in, allowed to “happen” in the deepest sense.  Detachment comes with examining the experience by means of writing the poem.      

May Sarton in Journal of a Solitude: The intimate diary of a year in the life of a creative woman

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 288

Los Cabos, Mexico

Los Cabos, Mexico

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

I always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal.  I am still pursued by a neurosis about work inherited from my father.  A day where one has not pushed oneself to the limit seems a damaged damaging day, a sinful day.  Not so!  The most valuable thing we can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room, not try to be or do anything whatever.  

May Sarton in Journal of a Solitude: The intimate diary of a year in the life of a creative woman

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 284

"The Magical Other," soft pastel on sandpaper, 48" x 38"

“The Magical Other,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 48″ x 38″

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

We can do anything, or almost, but how balanced, magnanimous, and modest one has to be to do anything!  And also how patient.  It is as true in the arts as anywhere else.

So… to work.  It is not a non sequitur.  I shall never be one of those directly active (except as a teacher, occasionally), but now and then I am made aware that my work, odd though it seems, does help people.  But it is only in these last years at Nelson that I have known that for sure.   

May Sarton in Journal of a Solitude:  The intimate diary of a year in the life of a creative woman   

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 283

Wintry day in DC

Wintry day in DC

*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

I live alone, perhaps for no good reason, for the reason that I am an impossible creature, set apart by a temperament I have never learned to use as it could be used, thrown off by a word, a glance, a rainy day, or one drink too many.  My need to be alone is balanced against my fear of what will happen when suddenly I enter the huge empty silence if I cannot find support there.  I go up to Heaven and down to Hell in an hour, and keep alive only by imposing upon myself inexorable routines.  I write too many letters and too few poems.  It may be outwardly silent here but in the back of my mind is a clamor of human voices, too many needs, hopes, fears.  I hardly ever sit still without being haunted by the “undone” and the “unsent.”  I often feel exhausted, but it is not my work that tires (work is a rest); it is the effort of pushing away the lives and needs of others before I can come to work with any freshness and zest.

May Sarton in Journal of a Solitude:  The intimate diary of a year in the life of a creative woman   

Comments are welcome!