Tell me I'm not alone. Have you got a list of things you'd love to do 'one day', but never quite get around to them?
I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately and how easily it slips through our fingers. There’s something about a sunset in particular that often makes me pause to think about that; the way the sun lingers for just a few moments before sinking below the horizon, it reminds me how precious each day truly is.
That feeling is what inspired both a painting and recently, an unexpected poem!
Now to be honest, I hadn't written any poetry for years (it's not likely to win any literary prizes!) but it just flowed out one evening.
I didn't even set out to write a poem; I was only trying to write a website description for the painting. That's always tricky though because the visual scene is only one aspect of a painting. Actually it's usually about something more emotional and meaningful.
I tend to think deeply about things, especially when out in nature and again in the process of painting. In trying to communicate those thoughts my paintings often become embedded with metaphors. This time they also appeared in my writing.
Needless to say, that evening turned out to be a rather late night!
I tweaked and iterated, playing with words and fitting ideas together like a puzzle. It was a really enjoyable and different creative process. Do you think I should do more?
Anyway, if you’ve ever stood before a breathtaking sunset and felt its quiet urgency, I hope this painting and/or the poem will resonate with you.... x
While there’s time, oil on canvas, 50 x 60 cm
While There’s Time
Tarmac unwinds, as ribbon cast,
Spilled westward to the sea.
Steadfast cliffs stand resolute,
Bearing ancient memory.
Headlands reach out rocky limbs,
Unshaken, built to last.
And sea which floods and ebbs again,
Grieves not for tides that passed.
But we are not so resilient,
Nor our measure of time the same.
We burn fast and flicker bright
Then fade like sunset's flame.
Along the shoreline wet sand glows,
As gilded thread out-spun.
Whilst sky, now clothed in gold and rose,
Sings ‘day is almost done’.
Yet gulls still ride the twilight air
With feathered tips outstretched,
Tracing circles on the sky
'Til life itself seems etched.
And so before the night unfurls
Dark wings to cover mine.
I too must fly and make my mark,
Whilst there is still some time.
-Sarah Jane Brown-
