Edith Piaf famously sang “Non, je ne regrette rien…” and in a perfect world it would be wonderful to be able to live your life without regretting any act you may have made. As I’ve discovered in the few days since beginning this blogging journey, a lot of memory is associated with discovering and uncovering the origins of my collecting habits, my art aesthetic and my adult life. That being said, when I wrote about discovering Cezanne’s vision of orange and green…it got me digging into my archives et voila…a tone work dedicated to a friend, P., written about 1975 or 1976:
The pale-yellow sun washes out the
Color from the landscape, ruined watercolors
Run together green, yellow, orange.
No words come from your mouth
As you watch her move across the
Filtered sky, the grass
Brushing your cheek, a fine
You lie for hours, motionless, waiting
For that moment just before dusk
When, in what seems a final stroke,
The sun surprises you, as it must have Cezanne,
Splashing orange-green trees
Up the hillside
Dark-yellow grass down the plain.
Thankfully we have artists to help us see afresh and to help us find meaning where and when we may have faltered, failing, falling…so P., if you’re out there, je regrette tout mes mots, pardonnes-moi.