ARTIST'S
STATEMENT
The
desire to write overtook me in my late twenties. Nowadays I wouldn't
be without it. Creativity sets me free. Writing saves me, heals
me, teaches me, helps me to breathe. My heart is in poetry and in
songwriting and more recently also in playing guitar, painting and
drawing.
Below
is a selection of my paintings and poems.
The first four poems below
are reproduced from
I Love, You Like, I Love: Poetry by Julie Clark. Published by
Chineye, 3F2, 16 Glen Street, Edinburgh EH3 9JF. 2000.
See
Julie Clark's web site at
www.julieclark.co.uk
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I
Stumbled Upon A Ballerina
Sunday, I stumbled upon a work of art...
She rose up on tiptoe from out of nowhere,
Dancing between crafts and photography.
Caressing corners,Pirouetting
through interior design,
Along
the oak shelves, she glided
At
once pure and delicate.
Her
pale grey arms sleek and featherlike,
Elegant,
fairy-like and soft,
Head
and shoulders held high, she glided
Her
ribboned hair sailing through the leaves
Of
knowledge.
My
eyes were set aflame with her beauty,
Nowhere
else could they turn
For
this belle of the bookshop
Had
captured me, captivated me.
Like
a hungry eagle I watched over her
As
she fluttered by untouched
And
yet so touchable.
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Love
Propels Me On
Love
propels me on
Over white steel welded walls
Through cement filled, seamless holes
To a space of safety and calm
Through doubts and shouts of insecurity
Over mounds full of upturned knives
She soothes my cuts, my scratches
He builds my towers, my pillars
She carries me and she lifts me
Steers me, breathes me, speaks to me in the wind
And you, envious of my steely platform
Puncture it and try to push it away
Looking for chinks, cracks and missing corners
Only to find it unbreakable, solid
Renewed now and claiming back the glamour
She shines like metal should in the sunshine
And now a new part stands above
Winks and jumps off into the ether.
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Shoe's
Company
A discarded boot on the
side of the pavement
with orange plastic
string laces
stares up at me from the street.
'Where are you going
with those feet?'
I stare back down in
sympathy and explain to
him I've found him a friend -
On our stairs, discarded
by our postwoman, is
am elastic band
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Combat
When
you feel your hands are tied
And your legs are twisted
It is very hard to move.
When you feel small
And you shrink
Its very hard to matter at all.
When you can't find a route
And you're all out of plans
There seem to be no new ideas.
How will you win this combat?
You're one-armed
You're one-eyed
You're tongue-tied
And you've tried
And still,
it is with you.
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go
somewhere
from
the first time she packed
her first red vanity case
at the age of three
she wanted to go somewhere
she wanted to be free
that
time she only made it
to the bottom of the garden
stopped by the garden gate
she wanted to go somewhere
she wanted to be free
she's catching up with chandler
23 homes in 29 years
clutching the few possessions that matter
she wanted to go somewhere
she wanted to be free
chalking
up another city
walking up another street
waking to an unfamiliar scene
she wanted to go somewhere
she wanted to be free
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in
spite of everything
look
for the break in the clouds
for what the sunlight catches
every day, all the days
look for the brightness in the landscape
listen to the birds not the traffic
every day, all the days,
look for the innocence in everyone
for the love in your heart
every day, all
the days
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