if you put your good shoes underneath a painting table— right


the walls in the hotel are paperthin
if someone would have sex next door–
you see// there’s just the murmuring
of a tv though
&i should concentrate on other things

the nite before i left
i crumbled

as i always do before a journey
his hand on my hip/holding me together
“you don’t have to go”
“i know, but–”

there are hens outside my window,
&i eat their eggs for breakfast
patches of leftover snow

i text “can i get a hot-air gun for christmas?”


&here’s the proof
that bitumen can sink a freight ship

what is left
is sand and blue—some waves

that don’t know anything about me
tar chunks
glued heavy to my hands

“what ya need it for?”

but that’s a secret
like the shrill containers on the front deck

what they carried?

“you’ve no idea” i say to the beach
which rolls sandy, like a pouting cat
against my toes
&there is paint
—————-even there

you just//
———–can’t see it


for OLN at dVerse... i’ll be a bit delayed with my commenting as i’m driving back home from the painting workshop in munich today…. see you then…

50 responses to “if you put your good shoes underneath a painting table— right

  1. ha. love the smile…and i know finding the paint on your toes probably made you smile as well…its like finding the dirt on your hands after a hard days work…and you feel like you did something…hope you get your hot-air gun…ha…and cant wait to hear what you did with it…smiles.

  2. You look so happy in that picture, doing what you love! Get home safe and sound, with no more snow…
    As for the poem: I have no idea what the beach is doing in there, since Munich is not on the beach, but that’s poetic licence for you… These lines especially spoke to me:
    some waves
    that don’t know anything about me
    tar chunks
    glued heavy to my hands
    And I’m wondering what you are planning to do with an air-gun…

  3. Ha, always interesting to hear what the sounds behind the paper-thin walls, isn’t it? Hens outside, I think would be quite fun to listen to…smiles. Never even heard of a hot-air gun. Enjoyed the photo of Artist at Work, Claudia.

  4. I can understand well this reluctance to leave even if leaving frequently–and your stream describes well all the movements that happen in parting and doing and coming back. Thanks, Claudia. k.

  5. there is paint everywhere…
    a wonderful flow, there is that sense of freedom which I found elating in your words.
    I loved this bit: “but that’s a secret/like the shrill containers on the front deck/what they carried?”

  6. Claudia, you look about 15 on this photo, and happy! Fresh eggs in the morning sound good, but the noise and smells of hens can become a bit much after a while. At one point some former neighbors had hens. It was barely bearable.

  7. I love this picture of you. Also, how you pursue your art by attending workshops and learning from others – eating the chickens’ eggs. To paint an ocean, one does get paint on the toes. Clearly, you were enjoying yourself. I’m so glad.

  8. Your workshop looks wonderful. I especially love the closing lines of this, the waves like a “pouting cat”, and that there is paint there, “you just cant see it.” Way cool.

  9. I like how you described the possible consequences of paper thin walls in a hotel… I can honestly relate to the paint on the good shoes. For a reason I ignore, I sometimes go on painting sprees with my favourite trousers. It happens that i consciously realise what I am doing, and I promise myself not to damage the trousers (or the blouse, or whatever); then I discover a tiny spot of paint and I can’t even feel really angry… Anyway, I have discovered quick fixes… Enjoy the workshop.

  10. I love your pictures smiles ~ I know all about paper thin walls and saying goodbye before the trip ~ There’s always a pouting cat in your paintings 🙂

    Hope you have a safe journey home ~

  11. You look so very happy! and the waves like a pouting cat…I like this a lot, the paint on your feet, the tar…all of it. And those thin walls….my husband and I were in such a hotel once and when the couple next door were finally through, he says, and now I wish I had a cigarette…get home safe and sound. This was a joy to read.

  12. The creative imagery in this is fascinating. As a scrapbooker & card-maker, I know that a hot air gun can be used to emboss. I would be curious if in painting it were used to somehow make paint spatter or something to enhance the artwork, or to dry an area more quickly so that the next layer may be applied? Always love your creative captures, Claudia, and today I love that photo you shared too! Thank you for your comments and all of your support. See you ’round the poetry pages! Be well! Ginny

  13. I expect you had a little smile on your face, when you said it is a secret 🙂 I’m not sure what the beach and sand are doing in your poem, but I think they might represent something larger that you are on the edge of, it touches your toes and is formidable, familiar, and fantastical, all at the same time.

  14. Can’t a good hair dryer sub 4 a hot air gun? Mystery woman for sure, but some new technique for your paintings seems to hover. Much of your work is in water-
    colors. Are U now painting in oils? The sea is always with us, rushing through our veins. Marina tagged one of my fave lines for this piece, rife with ignorant waves.

  15. Oh, are you going to explore encaustic? This poem seems to hold a vast space full of delicious secrets, new horizons, and best of all: lots of art!

  16. i always admired you for the traveling you do… it seems so easy… now i know there is a struggle… i’m leaving Monday with daughter-in-law and grand daughters for Florida… part of me wants to stay home in my country setting and the other wants me to journey… you’ve given me courage… what are you doing in the photo

  17. How have you lived this long without a hot glue gun? They make life reallly easy! Love the way this poem moves – it is full of color and love all over. It makes me want to find you again and just hang out!

  18. Love the pic – you look so happy doing something you love.

    Love your words – a beautiful picture in themselves. I wonder about the hot air gun too!

    Kind regards
    Anna :o]

  19. Well! The painting is huge! I never guessed you worked in theat scale! I love it! ANd your poem cleverly juxtaposes what is thin enough to reveal (walls) with what is thick enough to conceal (freight containers, tar, glue, secrets. Both leave residue of truth.

  20. I traveled a lot for most of my career; this has the right feel, and I think I get the beach… It reminded me of waking in a bit of confusion, not sure which bed this is.

  21. great image. it looks an exciting workshop. i can imagine the waves around your legs like a cat. and it is funny what kinds of tools are handy for making things =)

  22. Grains of sand on feat of feet.. gaining traction of art in action.. simply moving heArt as heart.. playing songs of life in toes direction.. sands again.. sands again.. the waves of sands again.. playing delicately between toes of life..:)

  23. Ah, but such spotted shoes would have some remarkable stories to tell, poems to write and even songs to sing! I think they would be perfect for you. 🙂

  24. I like the contrast of being able to see through the paper thin walls but not being able to see in the end and the shore lapping like a cat. I;m glad he asked about the hot air gun because if he hadn’t, I would.

  25. i love the tender
    “his hand on my hip/holding me together”

    i LOVE how creative you are, claudia! a true renaissance woman!

  26. I love seeing how you are “working” at developing your talent, Claudia–both in painting and in poetry. For me, the detail of the hens outside your window was such a delight and reminded me of my time in France.

  27. I love what you say in the missing images as well as the strong images that you have chosen. Unrelated, I also have a hofbrauahaus song playing in my head. -heidi

  28. I love the goofy-happy look on your face, the beach like a pouting cat … and all of it, really. 🙂

  29. Art is also about getting dirty & all… ha.. i bet you had a very rewarding experience at Munich… smiles… love that photo of yours, Claudia…

  30. Finally am getting around to reading and commenting…and this is a treat. First, I like the details and contrasts – hand on hip, patches of leftover snow. Then I love how you reveal your feelings about traveling from the comforts of home, exposing what vulnerability we all feel at times..”they don’t know anything about me”. Of course, the pouting cat is great, but the overall uniqueness of “you” shines through with the smile. Hope you learned something that will continue to help in the painting.

  31. If I know you, Claudia, the hot-air gun will have something to do with art! The tide “rolling sandy” on your toes… so much imagery, so many ways to interpret all these forces as artistic creation. I expecially liked your wordplay up front, “the walls are paperthin,” so thin there is no space between the words, as with the expression “thisclose,” just marvelous writing. And traveling can be heaven or hell, depending on whom you are leaving… but then, there is the coming home! Amy