Vincent went head over ears with his sketches,
He wanted to catch the little quirks, strange habits,
The typical character of the Borains on his paper.
He knew them well, had the experience
Of living and knowing them so closely.
He had captured the miners in his mind's eyes,
An imprint that could not be erased.
Yet, he preferred to have live models for his paintings.
Vincent tried to sketch an old woman carrying hot water
And coal on a wintry street, but the figure of the woman
On his sheet, had no resemblance to the original figure,
Neither the picture had any co -ordination with the street,
The surroundings or even the row of houses in the background.
Hastily, he crumpled the drawing and threw it into a corner.
He realized that simplest of paintings required greatest effort.
A tree may look easy to draw, but was so very difficult to copy.
Vincent spent the whole day sketching figures of the miners,
But he was unsatisfied, disgruntled with his own drawings,
Some of his sketches even looked grotesque!
He had used up all his papers, there was nothing left now.
He searched to see how much money he had.
He had only two francs left!
But he needed good paper and a stick of charcoal to draw.
The nearest art shop was twelve kilometres away.
A true artiste never holds back,
He is ever ready to meet challenges.
The artiste may be very poor,
Without a penny or a rupee in his pocket,
But his dreams are unlimited rays of sunshine!
Vincent was determined to create magic on his paper,
It least mattered, whether he had money or not.
For an artiste, every new creation appears as a rainbow!
Biographical Poem!
Vincent means ever greatest magician on the paper of paintings; superb the poem is
Another great poem! And what a truly outstanding last stanza. Also, the concept of the simplest of artistic works needing the most effort truly resonates with me. My minimalist poems are not as effortless as they appear to be on the surface.
I wonder at your poems, be it a biographical poem or a poem on flower, all are excellent work.Thank you Dr.Geeta Radhakrisnan Madam for enriching the poetry world with your beautiful poems.
An artist, be it a painter, sculptor or poet, evolves into a master when "he is unsatisfied, disgruntled with his own works" and strives for the better. Top score and Myfav
In the preceding episodes, we have seen the "birth" of the artist-sketcher-painter Van Gogh. Now we watch him evolve as a master. Great poem. Thank You Geeta for sharing this masterpiece.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Portraits are so difficult, when I used to paint I only managed one I was happy with. I bet he was very critical if his work.