Colour me colour me not (Prose)

yellow-orange-maple

the colours in my life
back then
at 17 years of age
painting of an Autumn tree
a wooden fence behind

oils that set my mind free
burnt oranges and browns
pallet knife and brush
held tenderly in hand

it was bought
purchased years ago ~
alas the first and last
I sketch now in only pencil
it’s simpler ~ it’s fast

greys and blacks
no colours to be found
my piece of love hangs somewhere
or discarded in the trash

a paintbrush is no longer held
or linseed oil in sight
words have now replaced what
talent lies inside

I wish
I’d taken a photo
of the tree ~ in all it’s colour
when my dream
so many years ago
to be an
artist….
not
a mother

©jmtacken 3rd October 2013

PS: I really did want to be a mother..though not at that age 😉

dVerse          Claudia is tending and we are writing about colours over at DVerse, this was a quickie as I have quite a bit of work ahead of me before Thursday.

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33 thoughts on “Colour me colour me not (Prose)

  1. hey… glad you made it… and mothership can be overwhelming at times…yet i think mothers are the biggest artists…smiles… and i would encourage you to pick up that brush again and paint that tree…you know… he may just waits to be painted for years already…smiles

  2. the piece of love hanging somewhere discarded….so sad…first that you would not know where your love is hanging (ok i am reading that into it) and then to feel discarded…being a mother is being an artist…you know….paint on…its never to late and the art awaits the artist….

    • Yes Brian a little part of me is left hanging somewhere, I hope that is the case and not thrown away. You do read well into poetry don’t you – experience I take it (as I am still learning). I think now my writing has taken over my artistic talents…but then again it’s never to late as you say ~ smiles ~ thank yo for reading.

  3. awwww I love this! I also stopped painting, drawing and pretty much writing while I raised my two wonderful children. I preferred giving them all my attention. However as they got older…well I pulled out my old art supplies and began again.

  4. Oh, I wish you could get your painting back again. Hope that whoever has it treasures it, but I wish it were in YOUR hands. Funny how one’s dreams change with time, isn’t it? You could still be a painter. Many people DO follow their dreams later in life when they have more time.

    • Hi Mary and thank you, yes I hope they treasure it too! ~ smiles. Time is something I sadly don’t have much of with my new role and blogging, but there is the odd day when I think of painting again, thank you for reading Mary.

  5. I can so relate to this, having put aside painting for kids – the pencil is quicker than the brush. If I had to choose now, pencil or brush – I would keep the pencil. 🙂

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