Category Archives: paintings

What is the artist’s duty?

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What is the artist’s duty?

Is it to invent beauty?

Is it to envision the possibility of world peace?

An artist may believe that one duty might be

the realistic representation of our crumbling society?

Should the artist’s duty be to paint the impossible dream, the deferred dream?

Should the artist mutilate figures to shock us into seeing our true selves?

Some artists will focus on “lo que le dice la patria.” (what country calls you to do)

Others will stress nature’s everlasting fortitude and beauty.

Paintings could be the inquiries we all have.

They can be a thousand garbled words no one understands.

A painting could be grotesque?

It could be an illusion?

What is the duty of the artist?

For me, it is simple. The duty of the artist is to paint a poem.

It could be an illusion? Painting by Melba Christie (c) 2019

A Little Bird Told Me

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*I often go back and read my poems and revise them to reflect my current sentiments about a topic. The little bird represents so many things. It is in a way a deity of sorts, a messenger fro the universe to help us make sense of  tragedy and violence. Perhaps I am also a dreamer. But I like to think that there is hope for humanity. 

 

 

A little bird told me

“Listen only to what wise people have to say.”

 

It spoke to me in a very alarming way.

 

I have always listened carefully to those I thought were very smart.

But all I heard was actually a lot of stupid stuff.

I have always tried the dodge the darts,

 

poisoned with hatred, bigotry and words that were really rough.

I pleaded with the universe to help stop the madness,

and declared enough is enough.

I turned to the little bird and explained my confusion,

 

But It flew away suddenly

as if to say,

What did you expect from your delusion?

 

Sadly, even birds seem to understand what is going on today.

They know about disrespect

and I think they even get

the meaning of reject.

I am watching for that little bird to come back to me.

 

The little bird that told me

 

“Listen only to what wise people have to say“

 

What Confusion?

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What Confusion?

Who gets confused these days?

Everything is so true, so clear.

Why would you be confused my dear?

Is what I see real or not?

Why would I rather sleep on a cot?

Are words that hate really love?

Are facts alternative you think?

Today if it weren’t for poetry

Life would really stink?

 

Confusion

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“Lack of understanding; uncertainty,”

is the dictionary definition.

I can only express my rendition

with a mosaic of curved lines

which I myself cannot understand.

Cause I envision

Peace.

But really all there is, is division.

Cause I dream

of a new idealism,

full of optimism,

perhaps a neologism

like neo-spirtualism,

everyone understanding

that prolonged confusion

cannot continue

cannot continue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What Shapes Us

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“The same law that shapes the earth-star shapes the snow-star. As surely as the petals of a flower are fixed, each of these countless snow-stars comes whirling to earth…these glorious spangles, the sweeping of heaven’s floor.”                       
                                                                                                 – Thoreau
What Shapes Us
This law I believe applies to all things live.
Can we all be glorious spangles?
Perhaps not. Perhaps yes.
I hope yes!
Are we capable of seeing the connection?
Can we try harder?
Can we open our eyes a little wider?
I hope yes.
The same law shaped our hearts.
When tragedy hits, we feel the hurt of others.
What shapes us is not a mystery;
It is divine.
It is intentional.
You, me,
all of us
shaped in the same way.
Can you dig it?

Life’s Cycles

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green circles

Life is about cycles. There is a time for everything. I try to represent this in the painting. The highlights are the moments that count, some unpredictable, some planned. I love the surprises; I welcome the challenges when life decides to spin me around. Happy cycling. We are given only a certain amount of cycles. Make them count.

Melba Christie

Poemattic Becomes Bilingual in 2016

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This decision is not linked to a New Year’s resolution because I do not believe in making resolutions. The other day, coincidently at the beginning of this year, I was thinking about the fact that I am totally bilingual and that I write poems and stories in Spanish. Some pieces are direct translations but many I originally wrote in Spanish. I found a few in notebooks I had stored away in the attic. As I read through the notebook I thought about my mom and dad. They were so proud of their heritage and native language. I know my dad must have been smiling from heaven. Thus, I  decided to include a poem written in Spanish every month.  I hope that you will spread the word. I will include a translation as well.

In the meantime, I have been painting, sketching and drawing to accompany some of my poems. I hope you are all having a wonderful new year thus far. Happy blogging And creating.

 

On Creativity

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“The creative mind plays with the objects it loves”

                                                 – Carl Jung

 

Tools of the trade

I recently visited the exhibit of Frida Kahlo at the New York Botanical Gardens. I took this picture of the desk where she painted. I imagined her sitting there looking around at her beautiful garden. I have many of her biographies and books that illustrate her work. The complexity and depth of her soul is in her work. I have different storage places for my paints, pens, pencils and brushes. These are among some of the objects I love. I see them as extensions of my mind and  a creative source. All I need to do is walk by a vase full of paint brushes (the older the better) and I cannot resist the urge to create something. Sometimes I fall in love with what I have done and other times I put it away to look at again at a later time. It is my way of looking at things from a different perspective.

I took the picture but I also examined each piece very carefully. Each object had a spirit. Each has a purpose. Creativeness has a purpose. It was an amazing experience, almost surreal.

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