Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.
Henry Ward Beecher in Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit (1887)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.
quote by Henry Ward Beecher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Artist
An artist paints with brush so old
Makes his painting worth gold
He paints the nature's gifted gifts
The flowing rivers in the midst
Of all he paints is a pretty face
A girl dressed all in lace
Portraying her beauty he is lost in time
The beauty she possessed is hard to find
Was it her beauty he tried to captivate?
But what a pity time doesn't wait
For she has gone so far away
Leaving her image with the artist to stay
Who paints her all through day and night?
Seeking pleasure deep inside
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Nature Paints
Nature Paints
Nature paints the sky in blue,
Then adds the fluffy spots of white
Which sometimes hide the fuel
Of fiery sphere - light
A relief that gives a gracious smile
Nature paints the high mountains green
An emerald of an incline climb
Extending stairway to heavenly dreams,
The peak is in a target's reach
Our nature paints the dark stained soil
A symbol for our hard day's toil
What in its core does treasure hides?
Seek the rainbow you will find
All colors that our artist binds
Copyright © 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
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My Darling Is An Artist
My darling is an artist
who saves pictures, her impressions on a canvas
and sometimes deep things
are expressed by her mere words,
as she paints the sea green,
at times mother-of-pearl
or a dull blue
and I wonder how she does it?
With a brush she can warble
can charm and adorn things,
she can bring bewitching colours suddenly
to the early breaking day.
l'Envoi
My darling is an artist,
sometimes she muddles my whole life,
when her lips are sugary sweet
and she tells me the plain truth plainly.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Nude Artist
A Nude Artist
he says he is a nude artist
because he is naked when he paints
such nakedness has
nothing to do with being a nude artist
a naked artist who paints a cat or a chicken
is not a nude artist
there is no nude cat
thyere is no nude chicken
just paint a naked woman
and he will be called a nude artist
an artist is not an art
he must know that
- Frog Mantra, Accents Publishing,2012 -
poem by Suchoon Mo_
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Paints Life Theme Canvas
research scientist
paints water colours
paints poetry brush strokes
paints poetry beaker pigment
paints life theme canvas
research insistent
poem by Terence George Craddock
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When God Dips His Love In My Heart
732. When God Dips His Love in My Heart
[Million Dollar Quartet]
(Traditional)
When God dips His pen of love in my heart
And writes my soul a message, He wants me to know
His Spirit, all divine, fills this sinful soul of mine
When God Dips His Love In My Heart.
Well, I said I wouldn't tell it to a livin' soul?
song performed by by Elvis Presley
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Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
quote by Thomas Hood
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The Artist
He stands at no easel, he mixes no paint,
He colours no canvas to gladden the eye,
Yet the picture he makes will not fade or grow faint
Till our love of the chase shall desert us and die.
He's an artist of parts
Who appeals to the hearts
That can thrill to good hunting and hounds in full cry.
By his seat in the saddle, his touch on the reins,
His skill and his mastery, who can gainsay
That here is an artist in all that pertains
To the horse and his handling - a real R.A. ?
An artist 'twould irk
Not to cut out the work
When the hats are crammed down and a fox is away.
You will find him no centre of salon or crush,
No letters attached to his name may he sign,
But there's no one so eager to handle the Brush
And there's none so consistently found on the Line.
If an artist you ask,
Here's the man for the task,
Making pictures where keenness and courage combine.
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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The artist always knows how to cultivate the state of the human soul on his canvas, he is the one who always paints the image of the inner reality.
quote by Camelia Oprița (3 March 2011)
Submitted by Alexander
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She Belongs To Me
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back.
Takes the dark out of the nighttime, she paints the daytime black.
You will start out standing, proud to steal her anything she sees.
But you will wind up peeking through a key hole, down upon your bended knees.
She never stumbles, she's got no place to fall.
She's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all.
She wears an Egyptian ring, that sparkles before she speaks.
She's a hypnotist collector, you are a walking antique.
Bow down to her on Sunday, salute her when her birthday comes.
For Halloween but her a trumpet, and for Christmas, buy her drums.
She's got everything she needs, she's an artist, she don't look back.
Takes the dark out of the nighttime, you know she paints the daytime black
song performed by by Grateful Dead
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I think there are a lot of pictures to make. I sometimes question whether I'm even an artist or just a painter. To me, the making of the pictures is the most important thing.
quote by Martin Mull
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The artist produces for the liberation of his soul. It is his nature to create as it is the nature of water to run down the hill.
quote by W. Somerset Maugham
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As An Artist
As an artist,
I carefully paint
a picture on my
canvas
with each stroke
I wipe away a tear
causing a smile to
reappear
As an artist
I endow your face
with my brush
making it more
perfect as I go
until at last the
image of my love
I see.
poem by Heather Burns
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Creation is dominated by three absolutely different factors: First, nature, which works upon us by its laws; second, the artist, who creates a spiritual contact with nature and his materials; third, the medium of expression through which the artist translates his inner world.
quote by Hans Hofmann
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Alone in the Woods
Alone in the woods I felt
The bitter hostility of the sky and the trees
Nature has taught her creatures to hate
Man that fusses and fumes
Unquiet man
As the sap rises in the trees
As the sap paints the trees a violent green
So rises the wrath of Nature's creatures
At man
So paints the face of Nature a violent green.
Nature is sick at man
Sick at his fuss and fume
Sick at his agonies
Sick at his gaudy mind
That drives his body
Ever more quickly
More and more
In the wrong direction.
poem by Stevie Smith
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A painter paints his pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence. We provide the music, and you provide the silence.
quote by Leopold Stokowski
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Alice The Artist ('this Is Art')
She paints first the floor
Then the wall behind her
The adjacent wall
Stops not at the first quart
No shes goin for 6,
Six
Six
Six
Overtime
Or going untill she cant anymore.
But no she doesnt consider this suicide
This night is her graduation from person to artist
Red everywhere. Alice is covered in blood
wishing for a crypt.
So she paints a picture worth a thousand words.
And her last words?
'This is art'
poem by Deandre Cammon
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Creative Perceptions
Artist appropriate palette prepares
as poet intuitive channels and shares -
perceptions highlighted in paint or in rhyme,
on screen, paper, canvas, [b]rushed, touched outside Time.
Each reaches out writing, foresighting, prepares
stalls [f]rigid for music of spirit sublime.
But few can interpret the talent they praise
in the style of an artist in true paraphrase.
(24 September 2005 robi03_1306)
Bridgework
Artists palette, paints, prepare,
poets channel insight rare.
One canvas fills, one paper inks,
imagination interlinks.
Each respective stream compares
perceptions, self-respecting, thinks
perspectives sensitively, shares
intuitive fruition, links
symphonic patterns, well aware
individuals everywhere
sense beauty way beyond time's brink -
horizons widen, never shrink.
Images accompany
free originality.
(7 May 2008 variant of As Artist, Poet robi03_1396_robi03_0986 16 February 2002 robi03_0986 and also variant of Creative Perceptions
24 September 2005 robi03_1306_robi03_0986)
As Artist, Poet
As artists palette, paints, prepare
so poets channel insight rare.
One canvas fills, one paper inks,
the foremost and the least of links.
Both tune respective streams, compare
perspective, sensitively share
where, true to self there neither sinks
as each through intuitions thinks
the way to harmony, aware
that perfect strangers anywhere
may beauty sense beyond time's brink -
horizons widen, never shrink.
Both pictures form, accompany
creative thrust with spirit free.
(16 February 2002 robi03_0986)
for previous version see below
As Artist, Poet
As artists palette, paints, prepare
so poets insight channel, air: -
one canvas fills, one paper inks,
the foremost and the least of links.
Both tune respective streams with rare
sensitive perspective, care.
When true to self then neither sinks
as each through intuitions thinks
the way to harmony, to share
with perfect strangers anywhere
how beauty may beyond the brink
horizons widen, never shrink.
Both pictures form, accompany
creative thrust with spirit free...
(16 February 2002)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Assassin, the Artist, and the Dog
Walking across this dangerous land
In this magical but corrupted world
The assassin, the artist, and the dog travel
This world is unbalanced
It surely is a world in ruin
The assassin, the artist, and the dog travel
And they know
That to survive
They must fight
Whether they like it or not
The assassin has his dangerous swords
and sharpened throwing tools
The artist has her enchanted paintbrushes
and magical paints
The dog has his bark and bite
And that's good enough for him
Everything else is perfect for the rest of them
During the day
During the night
As they travel along
It's a world on the brink of madness
But the assassin, the artist, and the dog know
of that
They know of the choices and chances they'll
have to make and take
It's tough out there to survive
But they know what it will take
They know what the world is like
They know how the world is
poem by Justin Gildow
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