I’m in love with color.

There seems to be a well of color images I carry in my mind, my heart, my memories. Far to many to spend time stretching and painting large canvases. Plus the backlogue of desire and the painting process demanded that I start small and let them grow. I thought of the many small poems in the New Yorker (of which I’m an avid reader) and made an instant connection between them and what I was doing. That’s what they were, little poems in color.

These color poems are large, on paper. 9 1/2" x 11-1/2"

So WHAT caused me to make this connection between the written word and my expressions in color. A friend of mine has demanded that I answer this question. So Mary Ryan, I’ve gone to the dictionary, because I don’t know how to express what it is I understood at that moment.

From the American Heritage Dictionary: “poem….a composition designed to convey a vivid and imaginative sense of experience, characterized by the condensed language, chosen for its sound and suggestive power as well as its meaning, and by the use of such literary techniques as structured meter, natural cadences, rhyme, or metaphor.”

AND, down at the bottom of the page is: “poetic license…..The liberty taken, especially by an artist or writer, in deviating from conventional form or fact to achieve a desired effect.”

Sound does produce a color...color does have a corresponding sound.

My color poems are not sagas, nor are they hugh works of art that when you walk into a room and stand before them you are immediately enveloped in a new experience.

They are glimpses into the magical world of color.

And no matter the size, metaphors of experiences I have had with color, from moments of instant beauty, to profound moments of experienced power.

Which is why I call them color poems.

These color poems are large, on paper. 9 1/2" x 11-1/2"