Not a Tortured Artist

My kitchen walls are golden yellow,

the color of Crenshaw melons,

so I can have sunshine

even on the gloomiest of days.

At dawn, the kitchen

is scented with the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee:

the scent of spices and the fragrance of bread baked the previous day

linger in the air.

I take an orange from the basket on the blue-granite counter,

savoring the citrus smell,

as I peel the skin from the fruit.

I sit at my place at the butcher-block table

covered with books, and papers, scattered or piled

in fragile hills, the detritus of a writer’s life,

an invitation for feline hide-and-seek.

The computer rests, waiting for the cue to come to life.

My words are created in a vortex of disorder,

but only when my soul is calm.

 

NaPoWriMo, Day 11  Prompt: “An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details.”

 

 

Advertisements

16 thoughts on “Not a Tortured Artist

  1. I used to have golden yellow kitchen cabinets. My sunlight dining room walls are now posted on your FB page.

    And yes, I can bear witness to the truth that you are not a tortured artist. Sensational post!

    • Thanks so much, Marian.
      Your yellow cabinets must have been cheerful. It’s just the walls that are yellow in my kitchen. Our cabinets are similar to Janet’s in Chincoteague, but lighter colored wood.

  2. Those kitchen walls really interest me. My grandmother always had a yellow kitchen because it was her favorite color. It seemed happy to me. Then I read Carrie Rubin’s book Eating Bull, and she had something else to say about yellow kitchens. I’ll just leave it at that, but it made me really think about yellow kitchens. Bottom line is I like them. They remind me of Grandma. And of the little napkin holder I made on the lathe in 7th grade as a gift to my parents.
    That last line: you are SOOOOOOOO right.

    • Thanks, Luanne! I hope whatever Carrie Rubin said was good. It wasn’t planned, but our downstairs rooms are all warm colors–different shades of yellow in the kitchen and living room, and red in the dining room. The bedrooms upstairs are all shades of blue. Yellow is not my favorite color, but I love yellow flowers, and I guess yellow kitchens. 🙂

      • Haha, it wasn’t actually good. It was a twist, and I don’t agree with it, though it made for an interesting thought pattern in her book. Interesting about the warm colors downstairs and cool upstairs! That actually makes sense to promote eating and socializing and then to promote rest upstairs. I prefer all warm colors in my house. Well, and green. I like some version of red and green together, usually with gold or beige. Nothing puts me off so much when I look at houses to buy as all gray . . . .

  3. Merril, I love the sensory writing. And I love the phrase “vortex of disorder.” But the kitchen seemed so calm and light, the opposite of disordered. And the title invites us to undue the stereotype of torture and disorder applied to artists. So I’m wondering . . .

    • The disorder was on the table–all the stuff piled there where I work. I’m not sure if you’re wondering about me or the setting. . . .but I’m glad you enjoyed the sensory part. 😉

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s