poem

[barbkozlow]

I don’t regret the acrylic things we’ve done.
We were young horny teens
I just can’t help but wonder, how things would have turned out.
If we followed their techniques
Instead of going on primal instincts
Instead of carelessly splashing paint on the walls
And calling it “abstract”
If we instead,
Watched the paint dry
And examined the work for a moment
Etched in the finer details with but a pencil,
Not a fine point sharpie.
To be calm-collected-even cool.
Instead of being so called hipsters,
Instead of calling it quits.
Instead of you leaving me shattered like that mosaic
Molded together with simply some shitty cheap glue.
I just cant help but wonder how things would have turned out.
But I will never regret the acrylic things we’ve done.

[Leanne]

moved from incorrect forum -- you might want to give this thread a title/admin

[abu nuwas]

Well -- I like the analogy of the chaotic relationship, not, it seems, brooking any advice from older wiser heads, and the simultaneous playing around with paints, acrylics, in any way which took the fancy, and calling it abstract, as opposed to practising (I suppose) drawing, water-colour and oil techniques until, being masters of the brushes and other paraphernalia, the pair were capable of producing workman-like pieces.

For some reason, 'so-called' seems inappropriate. Perhaps 'would-be' might be better.

As boring as it sounds to repeat, I think this would have benefitted a lot from words appealing to the five senses: after all, there must have been a palette lying around, with chrome yellow, cobalt, what have you, the pictures must have had colour; if they were teens, it would have been unusual for it to have been silent--and, for the matter of that, there might be every chance that the olfactory sense would be severely in play. And for sure, it would have been brought alive by the evocation of tactile things, smooth wooden brushes, de da de da