Poem: Rough Ideas

Outlines in blue pencil

multiple drafts
experimenting with
form, shape and function.
Dynamic angles
where is the motion?
Where is the focus?
Where is the heart?

The masters were not perfect
what you see is the
culmination
of many attempts
the ones that only breathe
possiblity
in their initial form
the birth, if you will.

Over and over
perfecting their craft
grandiose structures
statues of splendor
snapshots of life
the masters ply their trade
for the necessity of coin
but the artistry lasts ages.

Such ambitious souls
for the love of the craft!
It is a joy and a privledge
to work the canvas, the floor plan
the block of wood or marble
and bring forth a treasure beyond words:
all for the sake of the art
and the pain of creation.