Jacqueline Coppee Text based on drawings by children
" Round of arteries "
Forget what you know, what one believes namely, what is said about trees and artists. Forget all other exposures.
Begin by closing your eyes and get lost in this strange state of consciousness between sleep and the day when some of us see each show a garden ... then say there is not that by rolling in the grass that you can climb the degree of happiness.
Open your eyes and all senses to pick the show: the charm protects itself, a colored plastic cap on head, Olivier draws tirelessly in a bag of crunchy green fruit, an oak with wide nostrils quivering scored his panther, apple pink tenderly kisses her offspring, a musician tries to feverish fingers trembling hands crimson leaves of a head orchestrate the nature, the sap rising crescendo, the nettle rush into a ballet slowed, the tree warrior helmet red, all teeth out, then rises to heaven his victorious drums.
The foliage of the pit to the top of the amphitheater, the flowers bloom modestly in sighs confused, moss scented whisper in hushed silence when the lizard sneaks waving, a love song rises amphibian, birds chatter , coursent the dragonflies, bees buzzing, the silky rustling leaves of a range of supports and relieves the groaning logs that complain at irregular intervals from the union of wind, heat and sun.
The "oh! "Prolonged or" ah! Of amazement that you will have retained enough to satisfy all these great young artists. A "how beautiful! "Does not spoil before a prudent silence, beyond which you watch the perils faced by the ignorant. Because only count the beats of your hands and your heart ... and a smile - always - smiling.
Contact: Jacqueline Coppee sorpAROBASskynetPOINTbe
Back to homepage http://artpoesie.blogspot. com /
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...................... .................................................. ...............
" Round of arteries "
Forget what you know, what one believes namely, what is said about trees and artists. Forget all other exposures.
Begin by closing your eyes and get lost in this strange state of consciousness between sleep and the day when some of us see each show a garden ... then say there is not that by rolling in the grass that you can climb the degree of happiness.
Open your eyes and all senses to pick the show: the charm protects itself, a colored plastic cap on head, Olivier draws tirelessly in a bag of crunchy green fruit, an oak with wide nostrils quivering scored his panther, apple pink tenderly kisses her offspring, a musician tries to feverish fingers trembling hands crimson leaves of a head orchestrate the nature, the sap rising crescendo, the nettle rush into a ballet slowed, the tree warrior helmet red, all teeth out, then rises to heaven his victorious drums.
The foliage of the pit to the top of the amphitheater, the flowers bloom modestly in sighs confused, moss scented whisper in hushed silence when the lizard sneaks waving, a love song rises amphibian, birds chatter , coursent the dragonflies, bees buzzing, the silky rustling leaves of a range of supports and relieves the groaning logs that complain at irregular intervals from the union of wind, heat and sun.
The "oh! "Prolonged or" ah! Of amazement that you will have retained enough to satisfy all these great young artists. A "how beautiful! "Does not spoil before a prudent silence, beyond which you watch the perils faced by the ignorant. Because only count the beats of your hands and your heart ... and a smile - always - smiling.
Contact: Jacqueline Coppee sorpAROBASskynetPOINTbe
Back to homepage http://artpoesie.blogspot. com /
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...................... .................................................. ...............
