Saturday, March 03, 2007

The Mirror

A mirror appeared at the end of the hall
A whisper of time, a beckoning call
The glass looked old and mottled to me
And more than reflection it seemed to see
Who was the woman just standing there
The warmth in her eyes shining through her despair
With a knowing look, quelling all rage
I understood then that the mirror was age


Blogger Tammy said...

Very cool art! I loved your poem and I especially liked "The warmth in her eyes shining through her despair." No matter what your eye's always shine (windows to the soul). Love ya!

5:10 PM  
Blogger Anvilcloud said...

We do see life reflected differently through older eyes, don't we?

5:12 PM  
Blogger KGMom said...

Oh Pam, all I can say is bless you--mirrors and age, something we all relate to!

6:25 PM  
Blogger Laurie said...

Another wonderful post, Pam. You really are an amazing artist.

9:57 PM  
Blogger pepektheassassin said...

You put away your cape and tights? I can't believe you put away your cape and tights! (I just told Tammy I thought the two of you were the Dynamic Duo).

You were just kidding about putting away your cape and tights, right? Right!

10:16 PM  
Blogger Potato Print said...

Hi Pam,

It's a poignant, almost haunting image. I still don't quite understand how Photoshop works.

I relate to this poem so well -- all except the rage. I look at myself in the mirror so often at home. I just look and look, and I notice the grey hairs and the more knowing eyes. I see sags around the neck. That reflection is a measure of the inevitability of life's trajectory.

I understand the rage and despair part. It's so excellent that you can express those two instead of holding them in.

11:32 AM  
Blogger Cathy said...

Yes - age - and I see the wisdom that accompanies it if we've lived with an open heart.

I just saw your excellent artwork that Laurie is using for her program. A picture like that creates so many thoughts - so many questions. The accompanying poem added a dimension that resonated with me. Though I know you must miss your pastels, it has to be satisfying to create powerful images in this different medium.

Cathy from Looking Up

7:13 PM  
Blogger Laurie said...

Pam, in response to your question on my blog; yes, you have my permission to "play" with any of the photos on my blog or flickr site. I am honored that you have asked. :)

10:05 AM  
Blogger Ginnie said...

A beautiful poem, Pam. I have had that experience in a much less poetic manner...I pass a store window when shopping and see this old lady looking back at me. "Who could that be?," I say...only to realize that it's ME !

9:59 AM  
Blogger Thailand Gal said...

I have the same experience as Ginnie... except I can add "how did I get so freaking fat" to the questions I ask. :)



2:46 PM  
Blogger Mama P said...

Pam, that is so true. I'm 37 now and see so much of what you see now. Not that I don't like myself (as you don't like you) but there are some serious changes between early 20's and late 30's. The thing is, I still feel young - like Andrea - so how am I going to feel in double this time? It's going to be a wild ride. I say I come visit and we take your wheelchair out on the highway alongside some butch Harley men, stop at a roadside cafe', down vodka and listen to your punk rock grandson's music on our Ipods.

7:11 PM  
Blogger Mama P said...

Hi - I meant to say not that you DONT like yourself... wanted to be clear because it's obvious you have self-confidence that shines through your art. I love that.

7:12 PM  

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