The Hollow Men
~ T S Eliot ~
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass.
FROM A LIFE...A COLLECTION OF IMAGES IN PROSE, PAINT AND PHOTOGRAPHS.
Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving
safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out and yelling joyously .... "WOOO HOOO what a ride!"
I woke up feeling like a straw man today, but my colors are no where near that vibrant...next time, I'll ask you to paint me. Hope the week is a wonderful one for you!
ReplyDeleteOh, so good!! Vibrant colours - a perfect choice for this rather tricky one.
ReplyDeleteThat's the lovliest scarecrow I've EVER seen Tessa!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem excerpt, and BEAUTIFUL scarecrow. I love those vibrant colors. I don't happen to agree with T.S. Eliot, though, about the voices. Dried grasses in the wind DO have something important to say.
ReplyDeleteDear Blogger:
ReplyDeleteIt is not fair that I am unable to regularly access Tessa's blog. Hers is one of my favorites and I am inspired and comforted by her incredible artwork and kind heart.
This painting is a good example of what I mean. I ask that you immediately rectify your stubborn interference and allow me to enjoy visiting my good friend. I am sure you have better things to do than meddle in this matter.
Thank you in advance, Blogger.
And if you don't shape up, I retract the thank you and instead am prepared to use the F word.
Sincerely,
Ms. kj
this is a great piece...
ReplyDeletehe may be hollow but he is filled with colour!!!
Such a scarecrow
ReplyDeletewonderfully done
I find TS Eliot
s poems haunting and a little sad
but so beautifully crafted.
Hugs from NY
If I had such a colorful straw man on my little patio, I'm sure the whole neighborhood would come and have a look at him and pull my weeds for me to make his surroundings more charming. Maybe he would scare away the tomcat that's always trying to pick a fight with my Toby on his own territory.
ReplyDeleteVery nice painting, Tess!
Nice, very nice. It´s a beautiful paint.
ReplyDeleteExcept - wind in dry grass has lots of great things to say, at least I think so.
ReplyDeleteThe painting is BEAUTIFUL!!
This is so moving and beautiful. The colors just pop off the page!! I love the energy I get from this!!! It's wonderful. This is so refreshing!!! Thanks Sweetie for sharing your fabulous gift with us! YOU ROCK!!!!
ReplyDeletewhat a friendly and vibrant little fella.
ReplyDeleteThe colors are wonderful! enJOY your day!
ReplyDeleteEveryone refers to him. Why do I think SHE is insulted? Love love love it!
ReplyDeleteoh my, this piece is a wonderful one!! he reminds me of summer and cornfields and the rustle of the wind...
ReplyDeleteas always, I adore your work and this one is very special indeed. I also loved reading eliot so thank you much this day!
X
Somehow, your scarecrow is vibrant and full of itself, ready to do its job of scaring those crows; the poem speaks of those allegorical empty heads that can't stand alone, don't have any meaning, heard only through the howling of the wind through the grasses.
ReplyDeleteThis is, nevertheless, a beautiful pairing.
Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI like that you made the background white for your blog. It highlights your artwork.
ReplyDeleteThat's such a vivid poem !!! Thoroughly enjoyed it !
ReplyDeletedear friend, there is an award waiting for you on my blog. please come....
ReplyDeleteLove the picture. I think the birds would admire this rather than be scared away.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful rich texture and color!
ReplyDeleteTessa,
ReplyDeleteI love T.S.Eliot, LOVE him. And of course your painting.Such a brilliant scarecrow. Look at that color!
I thought you might think this bit interesting... Of his nationality and its role in his work, Eliot said: "[My poetry] wouldn't be what it is if I'd been born in England, and it wouldn't be what it is if I'd stayed in America. It's a combination of things." Just like us, all of us here in wonderful blogland!
I think maybe he means when we don't think for ourselves our whispers are meaningless?
much love!
lori
This is gorgeous! I love the colors! Great idea!
ReplyDeleteAlthough I have not read TS Elliott before (one of those authors whose books are forever in my wishlist but never buy them in the end because other literary works jump the queue) I found myself enthralled by this poem. The use of the first person plural 'we' was spellbinding and very assertive. And the image was equally beautiful. Many thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Is it only me or does this poem sound very, very sad... I think your painting gives it a whole new meaning. I love it!
ReplyDeleteHi, Tessa, thanks for your message. Just wanted to let you know that it is a blogger problem. The same happens to me when I visit your lobg or 'Pics and Poems'. The solution I've found is to go back to the page until it stops aborting the operation. Many thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
very nice illo, i like the colors..and nice poeme
ReplyDeleteFantastico! I love your bright colors. You and I love these flaming colors, the ochers, the burnt, the deep and viola! An explosion of colors!
ReplyDelete