SHELLEY BRUCAR Interesting Color for a Blackbird, quilt
Iowa Artisans Gallery hosts 13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, based on a poem of the same name by Wallace Stevens. The exhibit includes thirteen art quilts by eleven members of the Fiber Artists Coalition and runs April 22 - May 29, 2011. The Fiber Artists Coalition is made up of Professional Artist Members of Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA) from the upper Midwest. SAQA is a non-profit organization whose mission is to promote the art quilt through education, exhibitions, professional development and documentation. Visit the Studio Art Quilt Associates' website. Learn more about the Fiber Artists Coalition and visit its blog. Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens
Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime. IV A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one. V I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after. VI Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass. The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause. VII O thin men of Haddam, Why do you imagine golden birds? Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you? VIII I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know. IX When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles. X At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. XI He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds. XII The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying. XIII It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs. |