A Vision Appears on a Brick Wall In Malone

Local poet jim bourey wrote this beautiful poem as an ode to the mural I painted in Malone, USA. Feeling incredibly grateful for the interchange of artistic mediums and for work that is meaningful and appreciated.


A Vision Appears on a Brick Wall In Malone

By jim bourey

Dedicated to the Artist Beatriz Leonardo

and Downtown Artist Cellar’s Jennifer Lashomb Bilow

1)

Visions need a clear and clean place

to begin if they are to make themselves 

known, so people came with machines

and the power of water, tools

and purpose, and it was done.

2)

She came next, the Visionary, and pronounced

it good. I asked what the vision would be,

what it needs, would it be ready.

I will think, she said, learn some truths, 

find some helpers. The best visions

are born this way. I’ll know more

soon. For now, I dream.

3)

And it began. The clean, clear place suddenly

had the color of a wheatfield brushed

with hints of gold. She began under

a North Country blue sky. Her dream

took form, became reflective lines,

became spaces and places

where she would tell

about history, about hope,

stars and connections,

about you and your new beginnings.

4)

Each day the vision grew clearer,

twining up and across the bricks,

and as happens in visions, the bricks 

vanished. A Guide Star appeared,

then a river. More stars and Earth

found their places, and people 

with ideas came and many gathered.

Some joined the creator

and others just marveled.

5)

And when the bricks needed time

to rest (transformation can be tiring)

the Visionary joined with small kindred

groups and helped them learn ways of seeing 

their own visions, ways of bringing substance

to the pictures in their dreams, and those

became part of the whole.

6)

And it was finished. Celebration came next.

We stand and look, walk from end to end.

We see an ethereal beauty 

where once lived brick. We see color

and shape and symbol. Each of us sees 

in our own way. That is as it should be. Visions

are not commonplace, after all. They begin as dreams,

but Visions are dreams that don’t need to fade away.

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Some thoughts on the sketchbook

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Travel Diaries - Part III (The Oaxacan Coast)