# Painting Retina Nebula



## Space Cadet (Jul 27, 2017)

stroke
the satin paint

a brush’s reach
for some window
hours down there

stand
never too far back
or with too much toe
or heel
scorched brow 
so heavy
three stories high
the thought alone
might break me

just shy of breath
but somewhere
distinctly carved
two silent antique brushes
grit white space clean
covered from any fear
as Dad smokes Kool Filter Kings
and ashes in his paint

my sweat falls blind 
and I watch


below
beds of weeds, corner ivy leaves,
splattered ferns,
dance from viscose Pollock drops
aside each other
with shaking ankles
and wrinkled eyes


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## -xXx- (Jul 29, 2017)

more than one painter, methinks.


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## Space Cadet (Jul 29, 2017)

-xXx- said:


> more than one painter, methinks.




Yes.  Thank you for reading and commenting.  This didn't turn out the way I planned.    It touches on what I was going for, but I don't think the bond between father and son comes across.  I now recognize it needs an ending.

The lines aren't strong in this vignette, if you will. I need help with this one.  

Thank you, xXx.


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## -xXx- (Jul 29, 2017)

Space Cadet said:


> just shy of breath
> but somewhere
> distinctly carved
> two silent antique brushes
> ...



i think you did just fine.
perhaps a series
is in order.

i don't think any father
would feel slighted
by the above.

soup can be an exquisite
sensory experience.
relationships are more like
a long line of unique cups
as opposed to a single bowl.

jussayin'


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## Sebald (Jul 29, 2017)

Wesley, I think this is one of your best.

I always say that, I know ha ha.

The shaking ankles is the only thing I didn't get. 

It's notoriously difficult for writers to add anything to visual artists' work, or even portray it accurately (and, perhaps, it's the same the other way around). Your poem beautifully captures a painter's studio. I wouldn't take anything away. The smell of turpentine is all I'd add;  it's an odour like no other.

Great title; creating the universe with only our eyes.


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## Space Cadet (Jul 29, 2017)

-xXx- said:


> soup can be an exquisite
> sensory experience.
> relationships are more like
> a long line of unique cups
> ...




Wow.  Aptly stated and beautiful.  Thank you for that.

RE:  

i think you did just fine.
perhaps a series
is in order.  



i don't think any father
would feel slighted
by the above.

I don't feel he would be slighted, or that I wrote about him in a bad light.  I suppose I'm more concerned about the line breaks.  Sounds silly.  

Perhaps a series IS in order.  

Thank you for your words of support.  You rock, xXx.


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## Space Cadet (Jul 29, 2017)

Sebald said:


> Wesley, I think this is one of your best.
> 
> I always say that, I know ha ha.
> 
> ...




Thank you, Seb.  You're too kind.  Ankles:  Nerves and exhaustion from standing on a rung.  Does it sound out of place?  I grinned when you mentioned turpentine because I know exactly what your talking about.  Gasoline mixed with the smell of cut grass is another one of those olfactory cues that take me back home.  It would be a great addition, but turpentine I believe is more for mixing oil based varnishes, etc., like a paint thinner (?)  (I think.  I could be wrong...I could be WAY off.)  The smell of this paint was quite relaxing, looking back, and wasn't pungent or harmful (unless you drank it or whatever).  Great idea here.  


Thank you again for reading, commenting, and critiquing.   Wesley.


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## Sebald (Jul 29, 2017)

Gasoline and cut grass is a nice combination. Yeah, turps breaks down oil. It's fairly evil, though, and might be too much for this delicate poem. Sounds like he was using a water-based paint. More floury or plastic?


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## ned (Aug 1, 2017)

hello - an engaging and pleasant read - with some nice turns of phrase and imagery.

tripped up on - grit white space clean covered from any fear - a departure....

and the ending needs to be stronger, for me.

not sure where 'below' is - both times.

brush's = brush - Dad = dad

and give the imagery some colour - it's about painting!

enjoyed..........Ned


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## Space Cadet (Aug 22, 2017)

ned said:


> hello - an engaging and pleasant read - with some nice turns of phrase and imagery.
> 
> tripped up on - grit white space clean covered from any fear - a departure....
> 
> ...




Thank you, ned, for reading and the feedback as well as the kind comments.  

The 'grit white space clean' ... I tried to explain painting old, chipped wood, stained from weather with a clean coat of paint.  It does need to be clearer, as I type this.  

The fear of below is death; I suppose below doesn't exist when you're that hight.  

RE: "brush's = brush - Dad = dad"  Should brush's at the head be changed to brush?  No caps for Dad?  

Imagery.  I thought I had the ending nailed, but I agree with you as I now carefully see that a stronger ending gives way to bring it full circle.  The boring part about this paint is that it's white.  haha.  The art is below from the drops of paint.  Any thoughts about length of a stronger ending?  

REVISED version to come.  Thank you again, ned.  Best, Wesley


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## Space Cadet (Aug 22, 2017)

Sebald said:


> Gasoline and cut grass is a nice combination. Yeah, turps breaks down oil. It's fairly evil, though, and might be too much for this delicate poem. Sounds like he was using a water-based paint. More floury or plastic?




It's a satin paint, or almost semi-gloss.  It's thick and could be acrylic, definitely water resistant.  I think ned could be on to something with a stronger ending, to give it more of an arc perhaps.  Bring it full circle.  needs cleaned up.  Thank you for your comments and feedback. I always do appreciate your input and wisdom.  Hope you're doing well.  W


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## CrimsonAngel223 (Aug 23, 2017)

My favourite lines are shaking ankles and wrinkling eyes but as Ned said the ending lines need to be stronger.


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## Darren White (Aug 23, 2017)

I've liked this poem from the very beginning (when it wasn't on these forums yet). Love that imagery, seeing the two painters working together. I agree with Yonathan above about the shaking ankles and wrinkling eyes. That's just a great part in your poem.


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## Darren White (Aug 23, 2017)

Space Cadet said:


> It's a satin paint, or almost semi-gloss.  It's thick and could be acrylic, definitely water resistant.



Just out of curiosity, a sort of acrylic gouache?


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## Space Cadet (Aug 31, 2017)

ned said:


> hello - an engaging and pleasant read - with some nice turns of phrase and imagery.
> 
> tripped up on - grit white space clean covered from any fear - a departure....
> 
> ...



Ned...You know, I was thinking more about this.  I'd like the art of the splattered paint on the leaves, falling to the hollyhocks and ivy leaves three stories high, having slathered on layers of paint year after year from wooden siding.  But the father/son bond needs to remain or be stronger in th poem.   Any thoughts?  

Thank you many times over, Ned, for your comments, thoughts, etcc.


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## Space Cadet (Aug 31, 2017)

*sd.fksdkfsd;fhksdlkf*



Darren White said:


> Just out of curiosity, a sort of acrylic gouache?



From what I've read, being unfamiliar with your aforementioned g word, that's more of a watercolor and can wash away.  The acrylic paint we used is thicki, chips after 5 years or so, and scrapes offfff rather easy, especially when you slather it on.  (this is not interesting.  sorry)


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## sas (Sep 1, 2017)

Cadet,

How about this for last two lines for father-son?:

my shaking ankles 
his wrinkeled eyes


Touching poem. Sas

.


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## Gumby (Sep 1, 2017)

There is a lot to like in this one. It is beautifully and aptly titled after a dying star, that is a deft touch. It took my foggy mind a few reads to realize that you were speaking of a different kind of 'painting' than the canvas kind. Once that dawned on me, it started falling into place, wonderfully.


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## Neetu (Sep 1, 2017)

Hello, Space Cadet, we haven't met but I came across your poem and am fascinated by it. Of course, it depicts a father-son relationship and there is no question about that. I love how it begins with a stroke of satin paint which makes a great opening line. In S2, I am a bit perplexed by L3 - does it refer to the brush or the window? Maybe a few more reads will clear it up for me but maybe not. A very powerful second stanza but what does "so heavy" refer to? The scorched brow? 
I wonder if you might play around a little with the last three stanzas in terms of arrangement. If, with a few deft alterations you could make this the last stanza, I think you might like it even more.

ust shy of breath
but somewhere
distinctly carved
two silent antique brushes
grit white space clean
covered from any fear
as Dad smokes Kool Filter Kings
[FONT=&quot]and ashes in his paint

Somehow "ashes in his paint" would set off the opening lines very well to bring the poem to a conclusion. From "satin paint" to "ashes in his paint". 
[/FONT]


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## Space Cadet (Sep 16, 2017)

Neetu said:


> Hello, Space Cadet, we haven't met but I came across your poem and am fascinated by it. Of course, it depicts a father-son relationship and there is no question about that. I love how it begins with a stroke of satin paint which makes a great opening line. In S2, I am a bit perplexed by L3 - does it refer to the brush or the window? Maybe a few more reads will clear it up for me but maybe not. A very powerful second stanza but what does "so heavy" refer to? The scorched brow?
> I wonder if you might play around a little with the last three stanzas in terms of arrangement. If, with a few deft alterations you could make this the last stanza, I think you might like it even more.
> 
> ust shy of breath
> ...



  I took your guys' advice and changed some things around.  Thank you Neetu, Ned, sas, Darren, et al. for the ideas.  Thank you all for reading and I appreciate the comments.  Any comments on new edit?  The format may need cleaned up.   Thank you all again for reading!  -- Wesley

Painting Retina Nebula (edited Sep 16 2017)


stroke
the satin paint

a brush’s reach
for some window
hours below 

stand 
as cyan refracts
into blind sweat 
of coriander green

below
beds of weeds
 corner ivy leaves
splattered ferns
dance with viscose Pollock drops
as I watch 
his wrinkled eyes
just shy of breath

but somewhere
distinctly carved
two silent antique brushes
grit white space clean
covered from any fear
as dad smokes Kool Filter Kings
and ashes in his paint


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## Neetu (Sep 16, 2017)

I really like your revision, Space Cadet, and hope that you do too. After all, it is your poem and you have to feel the strokes have retained the intent.  One thing - I thought the poem began with "satin paint" and "ashes in his paint" was my suggestion for the ending. I wonder if the change to the first line is intentional or accidental.


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## Space Cadet (Sep 17, 2017)

Neetu said:


> I really like your revision, Space Cadet, and hope that you do too. After all, it is your poem and you have to feel the strokes have retained the intent.  One thing - I thought the poem began with "satin paint" and "ashes in his paint" was my suggestion for the ending. I wonder if the change to the first line is intentional or accidental.




Thank you, Neetu.  I wanted to see how it existed with the "ashes..." line and inadvertently posted it that way but have since edited.  So, it was accidental.  Thank you for commenting and reading.  I'm very grateful for your words. -- Wesley


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## Neetu (Sep 17, 2017)

You are welcome, Wesley.


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