The whiteness of a beast.

A certain whiteness — just before
my thoughts are caged
inside the borders glow:

It’s perfect in my mind.

When world is still compressed,
as gravity of air; it’s luminous,
pulsating with the possibility:
my room is still a beast,

yet in the stillness just before
growling with demands,

It eats my voice.
I hear the sound of wings
as colors fade to dust.

My ink has dried again.

Artist in his Studio by Rembrandt

Artist in his Studio by Rembrandt

Today I have the prompt at toads, and we are writing something from the same picture.
When I watched the picture I see two possibilities, the before when the artist tries to gather courage to start to create on an empty canvas, or it’s a finished painting he admires. I went with the first possibility, as I saw the artist hiding from that glow of an empty canvas. The empty canvas is almost like a hungry beast.

50 responses to “The whiteness of a beast.

  1. I love these:
    “my room is still a beast,”
    “It eats my voice.”

    Aww, did you lose your muse?

  2. It eats my voice.
    I hear the sound of wings
    as colors fade to dust.

    That feeling of betrayal of the mind very apparent here. Accurately penned Bjorn!


  3. luv the image of the “eaten voice”, i can seek the determination in the flow of artistic energy strained towards the easel

    have a nice Sunday

    much love…

  4. Wow! i really like how you focused attention on the room, the artistic environment. There is a certain hunger there, in the belly of the beast, which impels the creative process.

  5. love the imagery of the relationship between empty canvas/page and artist/author – can be a child in virgin snow or a man in a blizzard – those last 4 lines when the muse has taken flight are so memorable:
    “It eats my voice.
    I hear the sound of wings
    as colors fade to dust.

    My ink has dried again.”

  6. And then the canvass seems to loom. I noticed the disproportionate easel and artist–it is literally over-whelming. You captured that nightmare.

  7. A blank page or canvas is sometimes a beast – i love how you have conveyed this particularly the distance between the image in our mind and what comes out – which isn’t often perfect! Although close…

  8. Nothing is worse that to have what you want to convey in your painting in you mind but it flies away before it is on the canvas. Poets have it much easier.

  9. I specially admire this part:

    It eats my voice.
    I hear the sound of wings
    as colors fade to dust.

    Fascinating portrayal ~ Your muse is not dry at all 🙂

  10. Frustrating isn’t it? Especially when you have that itch to write but nothing came up. We all have experience it, Bjorn.

  11. Oh inspiration where did you go?
    Even if for a moment that beast of indecision has its way (a lifetime for the artist)
    Exceptional, Bjorn. I always love the way you pair poetry and art.

  12. I too like that you focused on the room itself. There are so many gorgeous lines here, wings to dust, my room is a still beast. This piece captures the roar and the fade. Well done and viva la

  13. An interesting interpretation of the painting … how to some the art of creating can be overwhelming or even intimidating like a hungry beast. But your ink never seems dry, Bjorn 🙂

  14. Bjorn, I cannot imagine a beast that would eat your voice..swallowing your words. I guess it is called writer’s block, but you my friend will always know the beauty of words.

  15. I like this hesitation, almost horror of the artist to waste the canvas…he sees himself so small in front of his unembodied idea…interesting perspective.

  16. Oh, Bjorn, the studio as character, in and of itself! I have seen the easel characterized as a partner, but this went beyond… it also drew a great parallel between the work of the painter and that of a poet. Excellent, my friend. Amy

  17. I understand the blank canvas with art and words. I have to be fast to capture either then sometimes I am pleasantly surprised. I like this piece but missed the prompt.

    Thanks for visiting.

  18. Guess my comment did not go through.

    Those last couple lines. Feeling it eat your voice and the drying of the ink. It feels like those times when you got nothing and you are trying to squeeze a poem out of a rock.

  19. Wow. Very brilliant writing, Bjorn. “It eats my voice”. Love that line . As a whole, you really offer up a familiar feeling 😉

  20. This is brilliant, Bjorn! You’ve captured that exact feeling of the must that escaped without being expressed…there’s such a fine line before it’s gone…for me, any way. Thank you, for the challenge!

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