Praise What Comes

Jeanne Lohmann, 1923-2016, American. From The Light of Invisible Bodies: Poems. Published 2003)

 

 

Surprising as unplanned kisses, 

 

 

Thread, 2012, acrylic, charcoal, pastel, colour pencil and Xerox transfers on paper. 

Njideka Akunyili Crosby, Nigerian-American, born 1983.     Private collection.

 

 

 

all you haven’t deserved  of days and solitude,

 

 

 

South Carolina Morning, 1955, oil on canvas. 

Edward Hopper, 1882-1967, American.  Whitney Museum of (North) American Art

 

 

 

Shine, 2017, inkjet print on San Gabriel Baryta fine art paper.

Cheryl Tracy, American born 1975. Loaned by the artist to the 77th Annual Juried Exhibition, Woodmere Museum of Art, 2018

 

 

 

                                             your body’s immoderate good health

 

 

 

Tender, 1993, oil on canvas.

James W. (Bo ) Bartlett, American born 1955. Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, Philadelphia

 

 

that lets you work in many kinds of weather.

 

 

 

 detail of Tender, 1993,  oil on canvas   

 

                           

                                                                Praise

talk with just about anyone.

 

 

 

Nearly Everyone Reads the Bulletin, 1946, gouache and ink on Masonite.

Ben Shahn, 1898-1969, American born Lithuania.  Philadelphia Museum of Art

 

 

                                      And quiet intervals,

 

 

 

Self-portrait, 1911, oil on canvas.

Vilhelm Hammershøi, 1864-1913, Danish. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY  

 

 

 

Interior with an Easel, Bredgade 25, 1912, oil on canvas.

Vilhelm Hammershøi, 1864-1913, Danish. J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles

 

 

                                                                books

 

 

 

A book of bronze plates on a white marble plinth, 2021.

Viorel Farcas, American born Romania 1950; active Philadelphia

 

 

that are your food and your hunger;

 

 

nightfall

 

 

 

Night coming down over Hood Canal in Washington State, USA,  2009. 

This is a body of water, a fjord, which, with other larger bodies of water make up the inland Salish Sea.  

 

 

                                                   and walks

before sleep.

 

 

 

At Dusk, 1882-1883, Conté crayon on paper. 

Georges Seurat, 1859-1891, French. Private collection on loan to MOMA, NY in 2020, with light interference

 

 

 

                       Praising these for practice, perhaps

you will come at last to praise grief

 

 

 

 

A Lost Key, 2019, hand embroidery on cotton and wood frame. 

Jordan Nassar, American born 1985. Whitney Museum, NY

 

Palestinian on his father’s side, Polish-American on his mother’s, Nassar uses a Palestinian cross-stitch to create works which he works with Palestinian women. 

A representation of the loss of culture and life when  involuntary exile has intervened.

 

 

 

Contour of Loss, 2020, oil on canvas. 

Titus Kaphar, American born 1976.  Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY

 

 

                                         and the wrongs

you never intended.

 

 

 

Melancholia, 1953; opaque watercolour on paper.

  Ben Shahn, American born Lithuania.  Philadelphia Art Museum

 

 

 

Shame, 2017, oil on canvas

Dana Schutz, born 1976, American.  On display at the 2017 Whitney, NY Biennial

 

 

 

The Repentant Magdalen, 1635-40, oil on canvas

Georges de la Tour, 1593-1652, French.  National Gallery, Washington, DC

 

 

 

 

At the end there may be no answers

 

and only a few very simple questions:

 

                                                         did I love,

finish my task in the world?  Learn at least one

of the many names of God?  At the intersections, 

the boundaries where one life began and another

ended, the jumping-off places between fear and

possibility, at the ragged edges of pain,

did I catch the smallest glimpse of the holy?

 

 

***************

 

Praise What Comes

Surprising as unplanned kisses, all you haven’t deserved

of days and solitude, your body’s immoderate good health

that lets you work in many kinds of weather. Praise

talk with just about anyone. And quiet intervals, books

that are your food and your hunger; nightfall and walks

before sleep. Praising these for practice, perhaps

you will come at last to praise grief and the wrongs

you never intended. At the end there may be no answers

and only a few very simple questions: did I love,

finish my task in the world? Learn at least one

of the many names of God? At the intersections,

the boundaries where one life began and another

ended, the jumping-off places between fear and

possibility, at the ragged edges of pain,

did I catch the smallest glimpse of the holy?