Three Exhibits

Yellowed and thick paper, crumpled-up
Rough hands spreading flat across the table’s surface
A map, scarred by memories waiting to tell it’s story;
Black ink poured into a pool of negative space
Seeps and absorbs along the creases
Into thin capillaries fading to grey;
Now hanging on display,
Admirers remark on what it seems to say.

A metal slab sits upon the workshop floor
Dull in color, geometrically bland
Awaiting molting heat and molding hands;
Over years, hardened blows
Bruise its surface with black and blue shiners
Reflecting the orange glow of the furnace flames;
All captured by time-lapse photography,
And played on a continuous loop for those with tickets.

A series of sketched
Nudes referenced from an art book
A study in the human form – just practice;
Overlayed by the image of an inverted sky
Turning sky blue to orange and
Fluffy white clouds to inky blotches;
Bound into a petite flip book,
And sold at the museum souvenir shop.

Be well,

Monty

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