Wednesday, March 04, 2009

How It Is, Lately

the first sign of mania
is the aluminium-tinged
odour of my sweat, bad
chemistry in ferment,
a smoking circuit in the
fragile motherboard
of my brain.
depression has no
smell.
which is maybe
why i
imagine that its grim

episodes of jittery unease
are
just a symptom of a
commoner life, encircled
by dull routine.
Some time ago, I copied this brief poem (by an Australian writer) into a sketchbook. I'd wanted to use fragments of it in one of my watercolours. Then I forgot all about it. Last night, I came across it again, scribbled in frantic pencil along the inner margin of a page. Its stark truth disturbed me, more than a little.

4 comments:

3brainer said...

Perhaps you should credit the writer of the poem you quote.

Hazel Dooney said...

Actually, Skye, the writer asked NOT to be. So, no.

Elizabeth said...

Reading that piece brings me back to a place I thought I'd forgotten.

Your watercolor captures it.

Martha A. Wade said...

haunting poem and painting... your depth brings another element to your work. Do you think depression leads to better art?