Looking at art like licking and tasting.
In a gallery.
Creamy, dripping, curlicues of oil and pigment.
Pigment ground fine from round, round rocks pulled from the earth.
A round, round earth.
The painting was blue.
Cobalt shades of blue, popular again — even so I liked it.
Blue felt new.
New and surprisingly new.
When had blue ever seemed so new?
70 odd years.
Rocks of earth spinning round the sun
Seventy cobalt shapes in cut fabric.
Cut, crude, warp and woof.
Canvas cloth cut from a sail.
The sail for a ship of thought.
Ship or vessel? I’m never sure.
But it is a plane afixed to the wall.
A plane yet you travel and in your mind.
Again, is it a ship or a vessel?
I’m told size often dictates between the two.
And I suppose, text also dictates.
A vessel for thought.