In 1817, in a letter to a friend, John Keats wrote, ” I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections and the truth of Imagination.” Two hundred and two years later, in this afflicted world–our world–his two affirmations continue to offer insight, and hope.
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Formentera, Spain
Formentera, Spain
Watercolor – 7 x 11 inches.
Watercolor – 7 x 11 inches.
A storm from Africa visited the island during the night.
In the morning, giant clouds carrying the dust of the Sahara
billow high above the waves, like lemon-colored sails.
In a chalk-white house at the edge of the beach, a woman
sleeps alone on a rumpled bed:
blue sheets, white pillow, amber skin.
Outside her window, palm fronds snap in the wind
but she hears only the gentle breathing of
a man asleep on the other side of the world.
She feels his heartbeat through a thread as thin as a strand of saffron
that he has looped around his wrist. When she releases her end
of the thread, they will both tumble, together, into the clouds.
More images at johnmichaelkeating.com
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Padre Nuestro
“Here I come the invisible man, perhaps in the employ
of some huge Memory that wants to live at this moment
from December Evening, ’72, by Tomas Tranströmer
Like many artists, I’ve sometimes wondered why I choose to paint one subject rather than another. What makes a particular street corner or a certain flower attractive, but not a different one? Some years ago in Madrid, on a rainy November afternoon, a surprising answer presented itself. I was walking in the Botanical Gardens, admiring the falling leaves. There was no one else around and the hum of city traffic gradually fell silent. What triggered the epiphany I don’t remember; perhaps it was only rainfall and the colors of trees. But I suddenly realized that, with most paintings, I didn’t choose the subject at all; the subject chose me.
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