"A poem . . . begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. . . . It finds the thought and the thought finds the words."
American Poet
1874 - 1963
Does your art grow out of your emotions? How often does your pain find expression in your painting, your poem or your story? Does your joy find the words to express itself? Many times we forget the original emotion that triggered the thought that ultimately finds its expression in our art. Some art begins in anger, some in love. And if we paint or write well, our audience feels the emotion.
Here is my favorite Frost poem.
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The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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"A poem . . . begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. . . . It finds the thought and the thought finds the words."
