I am artistic
cartooning relaxes me
I love to paint too
poetry gives me a break
creativity
for me better than a nap
inventing relaxes me
Creativity
An unexpected lifeblood
An unrecognized thread
The only thing driving me
forward
Through the dull familiar
Leonardo stands in the hush of his studio,
paintings breathing softly behind him~
the Virgin’s calm, the inventor’s restless sketches,
and the Mona Lisa waiting on her easel,
her half-smile already carrying
more secrets than the room can hold.
Beside him, the cracked egg waits~
its shell veined and luminous,
a chamber where silence has been working.
Leonardo touches it,
and she steps out smiling,
the broken shell releasing
what had been forming in quiet,
an idea finding its shape
the instant his hand
made room for it.
*apertura is a Renaissance-rooted word for “the moment creation steps forward.”
Swirls rise and fold through the field of color,
outlines drifting at the edges, searching for shape~
each one carrying the quiet pulse of an idea.
Figures brighten, blur, then pass into another idea,
their borders dissolving inside currents of color
that refuse to settle into any single shape.
Nothing here is finished; everything leans toward shape,
toward the next flicker that might become an idea,
toward the widening spiral of ungoverned color.
ENVOI
In the creator’s mind, color keeps opening, shape keeps shifting, idea keeps arriving.
A mystery
Through space and time,
A puzzle that riddles minds.
Hope without despair,
Here but never there,
A voice within the air
Heard from everywhere.
Soft, but hardened too;
A nail without the glue;
A shadow in the flame;
A spark without a name.
Truth that can’t be bind,
Left burning in the mind.
Poetry is what I do;
I am ETW
People create in all kinds of ways
Like other animals do
And in uniquely human ways.
And when we uniquely create
We open up
And the Universe opens too.
And between the two magic transpires.
Creation takes all shapes and forms
From single cells to complex structures
That can span millennia.
But when gates are open
And creation really flows
The bounds of time and space
Logic and reason
Are transcended
As if they are only figments
Of limited imagination.
And in transcendence
When the illusions of self and other
Have fallen away
As if they have never existed
What is left but play?
At play in the fields of the Lord
You may say
If there was a you
Left to form such an absurd thought. For
No self and no other needs and
Leaves no room for even a Lord
And its fields for play.
In the great unknown we are reminded
Knowing we are neither,
Both or other.
(8/30/26)
Coffee stained canvases and pages,
A sweet life of art and rhyme,
a Snake River
painter and poet
Loses track of time
Because he's so caught up
in the beauty
He's bringing to life
By: J.N.R Dutton
simple
wayside
momentous
outdoor
prospects
hold
sway
priming
a reverberating
shakeout
&
increasingly
invite
a
melange
of
hallelujahs
renewing
the
meditative
cognitive
elements
again
When he was a young man,
a poet of 22
He roamed coffeehouses,
lived out of motel rooms
And though that time has passed him by
and there's a little more age in his eyes
The creative fire still burns bright
He's glad it's still alive
By:J.N.R Dutton
RANDOM CREATIVITY.
an
amative
cadenced
conceptual
capella
a
radical
mechanist
memento
to
savour
stimulated
&
serviceable
with
substantive
silken
symmetry
in
tense
text
touchingly
torn
,twilled,
undeservingly
unaware
&
vanquished
by
wantonness
flowing
showing
too soft
take off
musings
fusing
suppress
the rest
quick write
all night
complete
and neat
published
book wish
The chorus a poet bleeds
drips with loud doubts
belted out
by a wounded choir.
Booming notes dance
in fevered circles
inside the center
of her barefoot brain.
The orchestra schemes
within the ancient shadows
to clutter her words
with redundancy.
The conductor stabs
each malicious doubt
with a sharp wand
heated by talent.
RANDOM CREATIVITY
flair
in
configuration
brings
unrivalled
spontaneity
compose
exposition
in
practice
originality
design
with
dexterity
modality
then
depicts
art
innovation
so
authentic
picturing
graphics
so
effusive
contagion
accidentally
lifelike
&sentimental
translates
to
the
romantic
soft summer night settles
like a page turning itself,
quiet, unhurried.
moonlight lingers
on the edges of thought,
silvering whatever it touches.
rest comes easily
when the day has been kind
and the mind has been creative.
dawn drifts in,
desert light loosens
dust-soft dreams
deep within~
a dry wind draws creation
down the quiet dunes
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