dougwestendorp.com
Doug Westendorp
Contemplative Art
  • Home
    • Resume and contact information
    • Gallery of Student Work >
      • The Blue/Orange Project
      • Student Work (2) Yellow/Violet
      • Student Work (3) Final Project
  • Art Statement, 2023
    • Art Statement 2021-2022
    • Artist Statement, 2018-2020
    • Artist Statement, 2011-2017
  • Blogs
    • Thoughts on Contemplative Art
    • Poetry Journal
  • Drawings, 2020 - 22
    • Biomorphic C, 2022
    • Biomorphic B, 2022
    • Pencil 7.5 x 7.5
    • Pencil 2020 22
  • Square Mandalas
    • Ten Inch Squares
    • The Overspray Series
  • The Remnant Series
    • New Remnants
    • Early Remnants
  • Gallery of Past Work
    • Oil Pastel and Oil Stick
    • Geometric Designs >
      • The "Scythe" series
      • The "Whisper" Series
      • Lattice Windows
      • "Ghost" Geometry
      • Panel Paintings
    • Graph Paper Drawings >
      • Pencil, 2014
      • Pencil, 2015
      • Pencil, March 2016
      • Pencil, June 2016
      • Pencil, October 2016
      • Pencil, 2018 and 2019
    • Stone Poems
    • Disappearing Journal Series
    • Oil Stick on Paper
    • Early Still Life Work
    • Dreamscapes
    • Themed Sketchbooks >
      • Monoliths, 2022
      • Biomorphic A 2022
      • Feathers, 2019
      • Geometry, 2019
      • Geometry, 2015
      • The Crucifix Book, 2012
    • Installation Views
  • Self Published Books
    • Short Stories
    • Poetry Books
    • Existential Coloring Books
    • Portfolio Books
    • Book Design
    • Illustrations >
      • Turf-domed Hermitage Community
      • The Hermitage
      • The Sphere of Life

Insomnia

8/14/2013

0 Comments

 
Last night, lying awake at 3AM, my soul trembling with the angst and sorrow of our times, I turned, as I often do, to poetry, for wisdom and solace. As you may be aware, the great poet, Jack Gilbert, died last November at the age of 87, leaving behind a small but wonderful body of work. I opened his volume Refusing Heaven (from 2005), and read this:

HORSES AT MIDNIGHT WITHOUT A MOON

Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods.
Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt.
But there's music in us. Hope is pushed down
but the angel flies up again taking us with her.
The summer mornings begin inch by inch
while we sleep, and walk with us later
as long-legged beauty through
the dirty streets. It is no surprise
that danger and suffering surround us.
What astonishes is the singing.
We know the horses are there in the dark
meadow because we can smell them,
can hear them breathing.
Our spirit persists like a man struggling
through the frozen valley
who suddenly smells flowers
and realizes the snow is melting
out of sight on top of the mountain,
knows that spring has begun.



I didn't go back to sleep immediately, but my heart beat more gently after reading this, more hopefully, and I awoke this morning with the grace of this poem still with me.

0 Comments

    Doug Westendorp

    I have written some poetry, and translated a few short poems from the ancient Chinese. 

    Archives

    January 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    June 2021
    August 2020
    May 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    October 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    August 2016
    June 2016
    April 2015
    March 2015
    May 2014
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    March 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    April 2012
    February 2012
    December 2011
    November 2011
    October 2011
    September 2011
    August 2011
    July 2011
    June 2011
    May 2011
    April 2011
    March 2011

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.