View Full Version : Post evidence of your creativity in the other arts

07-30-2003, 11:06 PM
I'd like to invite other Wc members to post samples of their poetry or songs or exerpts of their prose in this forum. It has been my experience that visual artists are often creative in other areas as well (as musicians and actors are sometimes visual artists as well, like for example Steve Martin). This may seem kind of daring, perhaps because I'm a wobbly writer. This does not, however, stop me from occasionally writing down a poem.

Here's one from my stash:

Sweet-Spicy Memory

Warm was your welcome
As were your glances
(Had I only been older)

Sweet-spicy the meal
And soft your embrace
(Had I only been bolder)

Bright-gentle the talk
Sweet-spicy two kisses
But taking no chances
I fled the scene

Leaving unfinished business

07-30-2003, 11:24 PM
This was actually the one I intended to post:

My Head

A funny place this is
my Dear,
this place between
ear and ear,
this place where you and I
are not bound by rules
or time
or place
and where you only see my face
from a side intended
for the ghosts of lovers past.

There are no boundaries here
except, of course,
that bony hollow in
which you now reside
with me
and all the thoughts
I hide and feed with memories and
false beliefs.

My eyes, the windows to my soul,
now shaded
keep the light from shining in
and turning your existence to a grey
that's faded.

I hold this place between my hands
and rock it gently to and fro
and play with strands
of hair now grey
whiling all the time away
making ripples in the sand and tracing
love lines on my hand.

08-02-2003, 01:48 AM
wonderful! I adore poetry. My first love indeed.

08-02-2003, 01:54 AM
ahemmm, okay,,,,, here is one I just threw together. I don't do puncuation well at all either.

Maybe you can guess what I am writing about ;)

I am pure and clean, I am a virgin
I await you first love I will be yours forever
you bought me and sealed an unspoken promise
to be yours forever and ever
I have waited so long for you
I desire your touch sweet master of mine
ooo ever so lightly like foreplay
you must send me screaming into
the wonderful colors of the rainbow
More than colors of songs and kisses of lovers
It's heaven to feel the stroking touch
To desire a completeness a sweetness
Never before known and never to be again
The pleasure is not just for me oh lover of mine
Gaze upon me now
See my colors feel my joy
You have made me happy
Your perfect strokes have made me worthy
I will be oood and awed
Oh please please please hang me on the wall :)

08-02-2003, 02:15 PM
i agree many artists do seem to be able to do more than one form of art.

well i cant sing, or write music...but i was quite good at improvised jazz. unfortunately due to school comitments i havent played in a long time.

however, i like to think that one ''art form'' i am pretty good at is motorsport...yes, i am a racing driver (not a very experienced one, but i do have a race licence and i have competed). i think that race craft is almost an art form. every driver has their prefered style and no 2 laps are ever the same...you must be constantly adapting and you never stop learning. weel thats how it seems to me, sorry about the rant:p

08-03-2003, 04:27 PM
I'm completely tone deaf but I've renovated and restyled the interiors of several houses successfully.

I used to write poetry in childhood, but stopped when one got published and my classmates teased me.

I am a gourmet vegetarian & vegan chef when I find the time.

I home educate my special needs son, getting and keeping his attention is truly an art form.

I have a love of disguise, I relish the chance to re-invent myself and change my colours like a chameleon.

The creative talent I am most thankful for is the ability to find creative solutions to problems.


08-03-2003, 09:56 PM

Swallowed: soil to blood.
Why else through flesh
would we starve, except
for this beauty we
(created to create)
call art?

08-04-2003, 09:46 PM
"Seeds of doubt are planted silently in darkness
and grow concealed from the light of
sincerity and blossoms of distrust wilt
into emptiness within one's heart.

"Sow truth and till this barren land
of many hollows...root up and cast out
the weeds of hurt displayed;
and plant new ground with seeds of love
and nourish it with the morning glow
of sunrise and crystal dew.

"And, lo, the blossom that quickly buds fills
the crevices with
the fresh scent of trust.

carly (1979)

08-06-2003, 10:47 PM
Great topic! I too write poetry, but my main forms of other artistic expression the last several years has been dancing and figure skating. I choreograph my own programs, & I just did my first program for someone else. It turned out VERY well, & I got tons of compliments! :clap:

08-07-2003, 05:47 AM
Oh yes, that' true and I see that all around me. Many of my frieds who are artists are usually very good in any other kind of art. Mostly in writing and many of them are gifted musicians or they create sculptures. I think that painting is just one way how to express what we feel and many of us want's to express feeling, their inner world, mood, opinnion or simple joy and there is so many ways how to do that.
From the beginning I had something like dreamworld, which I wanted to show to other people, because it was simply so nice, that I tried to give them at least little picture of beauty I am able to see. Painting was most easy way and most acceptable for other people, because they simply see and they have quickly some idea about object, but I also hear music, some forgotten old songs, I hear the stories comming from nowhere and all that things move me to do all this things. Not because I would be proud to say ... I do this, and this .... and I know this. But because there is a inner need of expression and I just search for best way how to give people global impression.

I cannot add anything written as english is not my native laguage and even when I write to this forum, I spent the same time by searching simple words in vocabulary :D
But I can post this picture, you it will be visible, which other kind of art except painting I am mad for :D .... but ... but I am forever beginner. Best time when to play is exactly when I finish some painting session. You can imagine. All heat is away, all feelings was sent to canvas and you are lovely tired, with empty head, quietness in heart. So I sit and play with joy and my mind rests:angel:

08-07-2003, 05:11 PM
I prefer to write prose; I've got three novels in the works, and MANY more churning in my brain. But, of poetry, I've managed to write only ONE good peice, for a 10th grade English project. This is it:

The Angry Sea

The crashing waves
Loudly roar,
Hard upon
The rocky shore.

The angry sea,
His furor vents,
Forcing the rocks,
Defenceless, bent.


08-08-2003, 09:57 PM
"Springtime is the Season
I like Best,
I picked it out
from all the rest,
Not too Hot, Not too Cold,
It makes me feel daring, brave and bold."

Copyright by ME! My 5th grade award-winning poem :-D

08-10-2003, 10:57 AM
I don't write poetry, but I do enjoy playing music. Hmm, I wonder if we can attach a sound file with the attachment feature.

08-14-2003, 11:46 AM
I've written quite a few poems, some getting published. Also have written many songs...and have played/performed since the 70's....

was frontman in a band in the big hair 80's era, and still perform today, but old rockers become coffeehouse/concert performers it seems....blues and folk. I have that side of me on my website with some downloadable songs. A couple cd's out.

Here though is one poem of mine that was published...rare in that it uses artistic things for muse-

“Common Plight” Larry Seiler

I’m puzzled by the silence.
Nothing to say, or...perhaps no one to hear it?

To what purpose is color...for eyes that see black and white only?

Light shines into darkness, but finds no understanding.
Why? Why the bother?

A test? Pass/fail, or...graded on a curve?
And for who.....? These simple few?

For us...who think we have seen?
We, proficient at painting in monochrome
Us four, and no more

Amazing....dark versus light,
detail versus lack of it, devices that...
until the contrast cause presumption of clarity.

I’m befuddled, by this thing you call time.
The questions that plague give us a glimpse
of those of so long ago...
and for a moment,
I sense the passing of a stranger by my grave.

08-14-2003, 11:53 AM
Neat Larry.

What software do you use to digitize music?

08-14-2003, 11:54 AM
This could be a wetcanvas publication. Poems, prose and short stories by Artists of Wet Canvas.

Interesting and great reading here...


08-14-2003, 11:59 AM
Originally posted by DanaT
Neat Larry.

What software do you use to digitize music?

I have a multi media computer that I had built for my needs, and have added to my system Cakewalk 9.0 to which I upgraded to Sonar 2...using Aardvark Direct Pro 24/96 peripherals for plugging in my instruments and vocal mics to record upwards to 256 tracks.

Can record four lines in simultaneously...

I use musicmatch jukebox to listen to results thru my system after I download to wave files or mpegs....or can listen directly thru my Sonar2....

In addition, I use Ozone for mastering down the mix...


08-14-2003, 12:00 PM
something silly just popped up and here it is......

If I were a bird
I would fly high high high

If I were a bird
I would eat millet all the time

If I were a bird
I could see far away

but since I'm not a bird I will sing all day

tweet tweet tweet diddly tweet :)

08-15-2003, 09:23 PM
Here's something I have been picking at for several months now off and on :

The Site

Cold, wet, and digging
for artifacts of the sky
has me tired, still
truth eludes me

Understand this - every
significant thing has been
sacrificed, even love
willingly tossed in,
with hope it might catch and burn

But this is lonely work, wild
until that is the only company
I am fit for keeping

“Madness with dignity”

Wasn't that what we asked for?
Is that what we hear all night,
restlessly clinking tools in the dark
until we pick them up
and dig again?

(Now if I can just sit still long enough to scan some of my art in and post it LOL)

08-16-2003, 03:03 AM
The mind & heart
In trinity with the soul.
No doubt
The soul leads
The mind follows
And the heart bleeds.

For always it is difficult
When the soul
Knows of other worlds.

08-16-2003, 05:48 PM
Originally posted by dodger
The mind & heart
In trinity with the soul.
No doubt
The soul leads
The mind follows
And the heart bleeds.

For always it is difficult
When the soul
Knows of other worlds.

:) I agree.

08-16-2003, 08:19 PM
I take everything personally.

There is a little neighborhood church near here that I sometimes drive past on my way to and from the liquor store. They have a temporary sign out front which carries an inspirational message that changes from week to week. I always feel as though the message is there especially for me, and I am often tempted to stop and leave a message of my own.

Dear Sir,

It is really very kind of you to take the time to speak to me like this, but I feel it only fair to let you know that I am unreachable.

Sincerely yours,


Today the message read, "Don't go it alone." I would have liked to ask what other way one could go, but there was no one there to ask. I couldn't help but smile as I continued on my way home. Alone



I do that sometimes. I find myself saying things out loud when there is no one to hear, and I am always a little surprised at the things that I say.

I was leaning carelessly against the railing of a second floor balcony, staring out over a damp and foggy morning landscape. At some point I tried to form a picture of myself in my head, but as usual I was unable to create an honest or believable portrait. I imagined myself as tallish, but not tall, perhaps a bit overweight but not fat, somewhat gray but not old - not even prematurely gray for I am likewise not young. I am unable to say with certainty anything at all about my appearance. On those rare occasions when I look at myself - truly look at myself in a mirror or a darkened window - I find nothing at all that one could properly call an appearance. I am only hair and beard and sunglasses and hat. If you take away these affectations there is nothing left to see. If it were not for the constant little aches and pains that are attendant upon middle age, I would suspect that I haven't any true, physical form at all. I am little more than a specter - a formless apparition of confused thoughts and largely unidentifiable emotions - all strung together with little bits of books that I've read, popular song lyrics, and snippets of half forgotten poetry.


The morning air was chilly, and a constant but impotent threat of rain hung over everything. I couldn't quite make out how I was feeling. I know that I felt sad, but in some way it felt good to feel sad. I was feeling lonely, but I didn't want anyone to talk to, and sincerely hoped that no one would see me or come near. I stood for a very long time staring at some trees far off in the distance, and wondered what color they were. They were not really green, as they ought to have been, but rather some queer new sort of black and white that was neither black, nor white, nor gray.

That was when I said "Steinbeck." It felt as though I had somehow become a character in a novel. I could feel the end approaching, and as the book - my life - pushed closer and closer to its end, I was aware of - reduced to - a single, somewhat painful certainty. Something was going to die.

"Steinbeck." I said it out loud. The baby dies, the pearl diver dies, the pony dies, everybody dies.

Just then it finally started to rain - a pathetic, half-hearted sort of rain - and I somehow knew that I had been wrong. It wasn't Steinbeck after all. It was Hemingway, and I laughed out loud at my - or perhaps God's, little joke. Fitzgerald was a character in a book by Hemingway, and soon - at any moment now - something was going to die... in the rain.


Fitzgerald isn't my real name. It is a nickname given to me by a friend whose nickname just so happens to be Hemingway. That's the joke, you see...

08-16-2003, 08:57 PM
sarge, I really enjoyed that :) I think you're a born storyteller

08-21-2003, 01:01 PM
What I seek is solace,
Just a moment's peace.
Need I sail to Aruba?
Need I fly to Greece?

The home phone, car phone,
Answering machine,
Pager, email, voice mail-
What does it mean?

Does it mean I am important?
Does it mean I must be reached?
If I cannot respond instantly
Will some agreement be breached?

Will the U.N. go to war?
Will the President sit and wait?
Will Saint Peter need to confirm with me
Before opening the gate?

I am going fishing now,
With worms, in a cup.
Don't bother trying to call me,
The machine will pick up.

copyright 1996

08-22-2003, 04:59 PM
Once I tried my hand at a sonnet.

When on a day of thunderous activity
I in my chair do watch the liason
of light and sound, the heavens electricity
I think on you and remember my reason
why I could not bear a grudge though gone
to see our hope so lost in nature's bent
and even then your loss I couldn't share
and all the healing could not make a dent
we were like yin and yang and made a sound
that caused the sparks to fly and rain to fall
even now I miss that you're not around

In truth you're gone but I can still recall
though we warred we were the tighest knot
and torn apart I curse my selfish lot!

(apologies to all Shakespeare lovers out there)

08-23-2003, 09:05 PM
Setup: Scene Two; The Bus Station; Rusty Blinds, the fiendish, two-faced informer, has just pulled a gun on our heroes Mr.Pazlo, Private Investigator, and his faithless...er...fearless assistant Mr.Bhutto.

BUT: Drop the cannon, Blinds or I'll let you have it with THIS!

PAZ&RUS: A crayon?

RUS: What are you going to do with that, color me helpless?! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

BUT: It's actually the latest form of mace, cleverly disguised as an everyday crayon! I'll let you have it if you don't surrender!

PAZ:You never showed me that.

RUS: I don't want it.

BUT: I mean...I'll LET YOU HAVE IT!

RUS: I don't want it! I have my own, and pastels, too!

BUT: I mean I'll


RUS: But I don't want it! I told you, I have some, and Cray-Pas, too!

PAZ: He means he'll spray it at you if you don't surrender.

BUT: Thanks, Paz.

RUS: Well, it seems we have a Haiitian standoff.

PAZ: Mexican standoff.

RUS: Pick your own country, Pazlo, I like Haiti.

We pick up the same running gag later in scene Thirty-Six. Pazlo is in Butto's car which is dangling precariously on the edge of a cliff. Detective Marsh, who was supposed to be the good guy, wants to steal the centerpiece of the case; a can of Malted Maltballs, believed to contain a Government secret or diamonds worth six million dollars. Marsh pulls his rod on Pazlo.

MAR: I want that can. You and your buddy Butto-ski, yer too much!

PAZ: Are you implying that Butto and I are spies?

MAR: Who said anything about apples? I WANT THAT CAN.

PAZ: How can you see the beach from here, it's so dark.

MAR: I mean the can of Meatballs, Malt Balls. Now give it to me or I'll let you have it.

PAZ: But I've already got it.

MAR: Yeah, now give it to me or I'll LET YOU HAVE IT!

PAZ: But I've already got it.


PAZ: How can you let me have it, if I've already got it? And why would I give it to you if you're going to let me keep it anyway!


You should hear the whole show. Maybe I'll post it! It's only about 60 minutes long!!

08-23-2003, 09:28 PM
That was really funny. :D

I have thoroughly enjoyed this thread and I want to thank everyone for graciously contributing. Please continue