Art In My View: THE ART OF BEING HUMAN

Just as I think that the artistic experience should be primarily between the viewer and the art piece, I also believe that the purest relationship in poetry is between the reader and the printed words. Therefore I am not a fan of poetry jams and readings. The whole dynamic of poetry is changed when a person stands and reads the words out loud. Not my cup of tea, with one exception: Maya Angelou.

Maya mural

One can talk about the fascinating story of her life. But what won me over was when she read her poem, On the Pulse of Morning, at the Clinton inaugural in 1993. I was completely mesmerized and deeply moved by both the beauty of the words and her presentation of them.

Stanza nine of that poem:

Each of you, descendant of some passed

On traveler, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you,

Pawnee, Apache, Seneca, you

Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then

Forced on bloody feet,

Left me to the employment of

Other seekers -- desperate for gain,

Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot,

You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought,

Sold, stolen, arriving on the nightmare

Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am that Tree planted by the River,

Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree

I am yours -- your passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need

For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain

Cannot be unlived, but if faced

With courage, need not be lived again.

With her recent passing, many video clips were shown of Ms. Angelou, and in many of them she was talking about what it is to be human. She reflected our journey on this planet back for us all to ponder.

Some painted musings on the human condition: