Word painting is a slowing of time so we can see, feel, think, in that order.
Images blur at a biological level
morning stares back at you,
a cool morning
w/ color upon color
stare long enough, you become a part of it,
a painting, that is
Inside looking out
standing still, looking back into your life
ragged and jagged, the picture from within
the frame,
flawed but clear
But the morning’s brighter
one whole flows into the next
no frame
messy, beautiful, concrete
Real life
the colors so amazing
we have to paint it in pigmented words
to catch the tiniest, chunk of it.
Word painting is a slowing of time so we can see, feel, think . . . love, hate, forgive, live, imperfectly, a water color, vague, contentious, sassy life.
Photo from Jen Bingaman, M.A. LMHCA The Case Files: Frida Kahlo