Viewing post #1221641 by ArleneB

You are viewing a single post made by ArleneB in the thread called Lessons from Sharon.
Oct 26, 2016 10:20 PM CST
Name: Arlene
Grantville, GA
Well, poetry is a lot like art. It's how it makes the reader react that's important and not everybody reacts in the same way, which is the joy of art as well.

I might paint a rose, just a plain red rose, and in that painting I'd paint a thorn poking into the petals of the rose, and from the poking thorn I might paint drops of red to look like the red petal is bleeding. Now the truth is I just did it because I'd pricked my finger on a needle or Daisy had scratched my arm and it was bleeding, so I painted my own physical reaction into the painting, so there is no underlying message, I just stuck my finger with a pin and it bled and I painted that little moment of bleeding; instead of painting myself with blood dripping, I painted the rose with blood dripping.

So when Vic looks at it she sees the bleeding rose and her understanding of it is sadness, somebody has a broken heart and the painting symbolizes maybe a romantic break up, love lost.

And maybe Larry looks at that painting and he conveys what he sees as Christ on the cross, pricked by a crown of thorns and bleeding to death, or as maybe a spiritual death.

And Lucy looks at it and immediately thinks that something has been in her rose garden and smashed her prized red rose down onto a thorn.

So that one painting had 4 different reactions, one from the artist- a bleeding finger, one from a viewer who sees love lost, one from another viewer who sees spiritual death and one from yet another viewer who sees only her rose garden's damage. Four different reactions. There is no right or wrong, everybody sees things from his/her own years of experience. When you look at something or read something, your reaction is based on what you already know.

This is true of songs, which are modified versions of poetry, too.

Thanks again for tuning into my regularly scheduled Wednesday morning educational effort. Blame it all on Cabin Fever; it stirs the teacher in me, I reckon.

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