The Mountain

First I saw a goat, a prehistoric creature with colossal spiralling horns,

coarse matted hair and yellow eyes.

A herd of goats trailing down a gorge

was her hair, ragged streams divining routes down her back,

a cloak of autumn-gold tussocks

with swirls of inlaid bronze bracken blazing in the sun.

Her face was a graphite sheen; eyes: crags in a waterfall,

nose: a darkened  boulder with cold glittering cheeks on either side.

Close by, a rowan’s red mouth was chortling;

a cloud had torn itself to rags escaping the clutches of a hawthorn;

above us hail stones were ripening for a fall.

Left Field Self-Portraits

 

I think the process of writing good poetry is very similar to painting in non-conventional styles, in some ways there is more in common here  than there is with prose-writing. The more radical the approach the more interesting. Here is a selection of self-portraits that stand out; artists that can do these, I think must have that poetry thing. Indeed I think dwelling on any of these for a while might well inspire a poem.

 

 

Schiele in typical Schiele fashion

Francesco Parmigianino's Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror; I love the hand.

Tintoretto seeing himself with rheumy eyes

Dali company-keeping with bacon: Soft Self-Portrait with Fried Bacon

Escher Self-Portrait 1919 Woodcut

 

 Crespi Self-Portrait

 

Courbet (forgot his mobile)

Difficult to decide which Kahlo, but this has some of her trademarks

Francis Bacon looking pensive.