Which painting in the National Gallery would I save if there was a fire? The one nearest the door of course.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gallery Owner
The Gallery Owner
He had been to the doctors
nothing could be done, they are
not magicians and he had
a painting exhibition at his
gallery tonight.
Sat in his chair leaning left,
less pain that way, some thought
he had had too much to drink.
In the night he was saved
from further agony,
a sudden heart attack.
Many people came to his
funereal, a lyrical lady singer
sang about love and loss;
there were tears;
...and then the silence began.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's one of his radical paintings
They refused to take his painting for the Exhibition.
The reason they explained; ' It's a blank canvas.'
Then the painter argued; ' It's titled as Blank life.'
'At least there should be a brush mark then we can accept.' the director of the Art Gallery said.
With his ball point pen he kept a dot in the middle of the canvas
And added to the title as 'Full stop to the blank life.'
The director was really appreciated and taken the painting back.
* To my friend Denis.Joe who threw a torch into my little dark World and I saw this strange sign shines in the darkness.
'If the door is locked, someone is inside? '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Best Poem In The World
The best poem in the world
will never be read
when everyone is writing
The best song in the world
will never be heard
when everyone is singing
The best painting in the world
will never be seen
when everyone is painting
The best performance in the world
will never be witnessed
when everyone is acting
However a world where the best poem
is burried in a stack of poems
the best song drowned out
by a million voices
the best painting lost in a gallery
streatching out as far as the eye can see
And the best preformance
competing with limitless preformances
will not be sacrificed
for an artless world
poem by Svanhildur Njálsdóttir
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At 18 I began painting steadily fulltime and at age 20 had my first New York show at the Macbeth Gallery.
quote by Andrew Wyeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Travellers gallery
Travellers gallery
~
welcome to the travellers gallery
the windows frame a world
from water coloured rivers
to pastel forests and fields
sketched out towns spread out
between charcoal cities
nameless people, faces
all passing in a hurry
the travellers gallery presents
a life in motion exhibition
all in natural hue colour
by bus, train or car
the landscape and portraits
become ingrained in memory
welcome to the travellers gallery
poem by Matthew Holloway
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I find old copies of National Gallery catalogues, which are written in the dryest possible prose, infinitely soothing.
quote by Howard Hodgkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gagosian Gallery
gagasian gallery
gage gallery
age gallery
age galley
age alley
age lye
alley
lye
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Lust and pride at war.
The painting in the street is cheap.
I am averse.
The one in art gallery is costly.
I have no purse.
My bedroom is dry and empty.
21.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Maryanne Webber
Maryanne runs the Lake Worth Street Painting Festival,
She does a great job, she is really on the ball.
I have visited her gallery,
She has not only paintings but jewelry.
She also has objects made of clay,
She crafts of all kinds to brighten your day.
Now she has a website on the net,
She has one of a kind art that you can get.
Thank you Maryanne for promoting artists so,
and for having me in the Lake Street Painting Festival,
I will give you one of my children’s books that
really does glow.
(By Suzae Chevalier on August 25,2011)
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Gallery
I fell in love in the gallery
where every painting
had a story still to tell
the portraits of nature
every hue of wild beauty
caught my soul breathless
I wandered through worlds
those places of such scenery
which caught, held my eye
I imagined the feel of the air
the scent which filled each picture
touching my skin, filling my nose
my eyes wide open feasted upon
such beauty the likes of which
I had hardly every seen
nether less thought to imagine
I walked almost listless
in no hurry to leave this place
I fell in love in the gallery
where portraits of nature
told me their story
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The gallery of my heart
The gallery of my heart
~
Like a portrait hung
In the gallery of my heart
A girl of undoubted beauty
Breathtaking and full of wonder
Holds my gaze completely
I find my words flowing
In a river of adoration
I dedicate her my soul
There is a girl of beauty
Beyond which none compare
Painted to a memory
In the gallery of my heart
The softness of her eyes
A warmth to her lips
Fair skin and cascading hair
What love may imagine
When looking upon
A girl in portrait hung
In the gallery of my heart
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why I Am Not A Painter
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. "You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.
poem by Frank O'Hara
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From Cubism To Realism!
The Art Gallery was full of prominent guests from all over the World.
The Cubist introduced himself in a polite manner 'I am Bogus.Richmond from Iceland'
Everybody appreciated his magical style especially the painting
'Mermaid and the Shark in the mysterious deep sea.'
The Ambassador from the Hell bought his realistic painting 'The nude Woman' for Million Hell dollars with the check of Banco Underground.
And he whispered to the Artist;
'You know why I spent so much because it's like my wife's stolen photograph.'
The real painter Sam de Poor still begs on the road with Richmond's given lump sum for all the paintings?
*For DavidPaulley in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Magic & Loss - The Summation
When you pass through the fire, you pass through humble
You pass through a maze of self doubt
When you pass through humble, the lights can blind you
Some people never figure that out
You pass through arrogance, you pass through hurt
You pass through an ever present past
And its best not to wait for luck to save you
Pass through the fire to the light
Pass through the fire to the light
Pass through the fire to the light
Its best not to wait for luck to save you
Pass through the fire to the light
As you pass through the fire, your right hand waving
There are things you have to throw out
That caustic dread inside your head
Will never help you out
You have to be very strong, cause youll start from zero
Over and over again
And as the smoke clears theres an all consuming fire
Lying straight ahead
Lying straight ahead
Lying straight ahead
As the smoke clears theres an all consuming fire
Lying straight ahead
They say no one person can do it all
But you want to in your head
But you cant be shakespeare and you cant be joyce
So what is left instead
Youre stuck with yourself and a rage that can hurt you
You have to start at the beginning again
And just this moment this wonderful fire
Started up again
When you pass through humble, when you pass through sickly
When you pass through Im better than you all
When you pass through anger and self deprecation
And have the strength to acknowledge it all
When the past makes you laugh and you can savor the magic
That let you survive your own war
You find that that fire is passion
And theres a door up ahead not a wall
As you pass through fire as you pass through fire
Trying to remember its name
When you pass through fire licking at your lips
You cannot remain the same
And if the buildings burning move towards that door
But dont put the flames out
Theres a bit of magic in everything
And then some loss to even things out
Some loss to even things out
Some loss to even things out
Theres a bit of magic in everything
And then some loss to even things out
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painting The Walls
painting the walls,
rolling over handprints,
cobwebs, and smoke stains....
over splashes of color,
over peels of time.
painting over the sounds
of voices whispering, laughing....
painting over tears hidden
from the world, from each other.
painting over running, and working,
working all day and half the night.
painting over children, and dreams,
folded like old clothes, and put away.
painting over notes from God,
that were often barely noticed...
painting over the nail that held
up the clock, hands moving slowly,
turning the seasons of living....
painting over the final words,
the last breath held in the hands,
of lives written in the grain....
the testimony of each feeling....
painting the walls,
and brushing the corners,
as if we never lived!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maryanne Webber Gallery
Maryanne Webber Gallery is on Lurcerne Ave.
featuring fine American crafts, one of a kind jewelry and art glass.
Her gallery represents Florida artists and artists from around the USA,
she has been open since 1990 and is very successful till this day.
Her gallery also has metal sculptures, hand silks and wearable art,
her gallery represents Joan Edelstein, her Arts & Passion Scarf.
She also has sculptures made of clay, one of a kind and handmade.
Her gallery displays original Blue Vase of Elodie Holmes,
a beautiful sculptured piece to cherish in your home.
Also you will find a one of a kind Zip 20 Clock, by David Scherer Designs.
Home accessories that I find colorful and bright,
is hand painted Tropical Wine Glasses by Leslie Millar to drink wine at night.
Maryanne’s gallery is open Monday through Friday,10 till 5 and Saturday 10 to 4,
make sure you stop by and see what unique gifts her gallery has in store.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on November 12,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Magic And Loss
When you pass through the fire
you pass through humble
You pass through a maze of self doubt
When you pass through humble
the lights can blind you
Some people never figure that out
You pass through arrogance you pass through hurt
You pass through an ever present past
and it's best not to wait for luck to save you
Pass through the fire to the light
As you pass through the fire
your right hand waving
there are things you have to throw out
That caustic dread inside your head
will never help you out
You have to be very strong
'cause you'll start from zero
over and over again
And as the smoke clears
there's an all consuming fire
lying straight ahead
They say no one person can do it all
but you want to in your head
But you can't be Joyce
so what is left instead
You're stuck with yourself
and a rage that can hurt you
You have to start at the beginning again
And just this moment
This wonderful fire started up again
When you pass through humble
when you pass through sickly
When you pass through
I'm better than you all
When you pass through
anger and self deprecation
and have the strength to acknowledge it all
When the past makes you laugh
and you can savor the magic
that let you survive your own war
You find that that fire is passion
and there's a door up ahead not a wall
As you pass through fire as you pass through fire
trying to remember its name
When you pass through fire licking at your lips
you cannot remain the same
And if the building' burning
move towards that door
but don't put the flames out
There's a bit of magic in everything
and then some loss to even
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Maryanne Webber Gallery
Maryanne Webber Gallery is on Lurcerne Ave.
featuring fine American crafts, one of a kind jewelry and art glass.
Her gallery represents Florida artists and artists from around the USA,
she has been open since 1990 and is very successful till this day.
Her gallery also has metal sculptures, hand silks and wearable art,
her gallery represents Joan Edelstein, her Arts & Passion Scarf.
She also has sculptures made of clay, one of a kind and handmade.
Her gallery displays original Blue Vase of Elodie Holmes,
a beautiful sculptured piece to cherish in your home.
Also you will find a one of a kind Zip 20 Clock, by David Scherer Designs.
Home accessories that I find colorful and bright,
is hand painted Tropical Wine Glasses by Leslie Millar to drink wine at night.
Maryanne’s gallery is open Monday through Friday,10 till 5 and Saturday 10 to 4,
make sure you stop by and see what unique gifts her gallery has in store.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on November 12,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I love the gallery, the arena of representation. It's a commercial world, and morality is based generally around economics, and that's taking place in the art gallery.
quote by Jeff Koons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire (Lyrics)
One, two
One, two, three
Alright
Now dig this trash, baby
You don't care about me
I don't care about that
I got a new fool
I like it like that
I got only one burning desire
Let me stand next to your fire
(Let me stand next to your fire)
(Let me stand next to your fire)
Let me stand
(Let me stand next to your fire)
I wanna stand
(Let me stand next to your fire)
Listen here, baby
Arh, stop acting so crazy
You say your mom ain't home
That ain't my concern
If you play with me, ah, you won't get burned
I got only one itchin desire
Let me stand next to your fire
(Let me stand next to your fire)
Oh, let me stand
(Let me stand next to your fire)
Yeah, let me stand
(Let me stand next to your fire)
Come on let me stand
Let me stand next to your fire
Oh, yeah
Move over, Rover
Let Alice take over
Arh, you know what I'm talkin' about
Get over baby
That's what I'm taking about
Dig this
You gotta give me your money, better save it, babe
Save it for your rainy day
I got only one burning desire
Let me stand next to your fire
Let me stand next to your fire
Baby, let me stand
(Let me stand next to your fire)
Arh, let me stand
Let me stand next to your fire
I wanna get that man where ***
Oh, let me stand
I just wanna stand
Ah, Jimi's rolling over
Hey, hey, K. J
Arh, you know what I'm talkin' about
Huh, yeah, fire
I just, just wanna stand
In ya fire
poem by Satan's Sibling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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