The Artist

On a sunny day my thoughts are lifted high

Stretched relaxed peacefully adrift in an azure sky

High pressure is my delight!

On a cloudy day my thoughts plummet to the earth

Heavy leaden weights of dusty sorrow bereft of mirth

Low pressure is my fright.


On a warm summer day my pain melts I feel strong

I love to play to work to laugh and sing many a happy song

In summer my world is right!

On a winter day I ache and I suffer from cabin fever

I read I write I contemplate and wait for warmer weather

Winter is my personal plight.


On a quiet day when the wind is still my soul and spirit rest

I gather strength from the atmosphere I am safe in Spirit’s nest

Still days are my source of Might.

On a blustery day when the wind howls sweeping the earth

I hunker down to wait my faith is tested I rely on my second birth

On a windy day I hold faith tight!


I am a finely tuned instrument subject to the atmosphere I measure

Pulled up pushed down lifted rested then tested by outside pressure

A thermometer an emotional barometer!

I am intrinsically sensitive excruciatingly aware of the invisible forces

The Spiritual Breath that animates the living sets all things on their courses

A sensitive a spiritual winds anemometer.


I am purposed to gather atmospheric information and package it as art

I am a natural-emotional –spiritual-data-base predicting weather is my part

The information I gather is to share.

I ruminate I correlate I paint I write I create and present my data in a poem

I am a creative this is what I do the way I communicate Truth in teal ocean foam

An artist’s call lays the heart bare!





17 thoughts on “The Artist

    1. I just read this to my husband and he loved it because ir is me.:0) I made him laugh and that’s always good. I was able to go outside a little for the first time today. It wasn’t warm enough for me to stay out long but it felt good to be able to breath warm fresh air and hear the birds sing. I saw my doc today about a treatment I read about. He wants to help me, not hurt me and I can tell he’s getting a little nervous about treating my rare disease. I need to find a doctor with some experience with cryo that he can at least, consult. I’m a little overwhelmed so please, don’t stop praying. If I’m not around as much it will be because I’m focused on trying to find a way to put this into remission. I tried plowing through for the last year or so but I’m really going to have to focus on my health for awhile. Thank you for all of your support Jim.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. “In summer my world is right…….Winter is my personal plight.” Love this line and how you capture all the seasons through an artist’s brilliant mind. Thanks for sharing this Pam. I enjoyed reading your posts.


  2. Beautifully written. You’re heroine is in tune with her environment. Sorry to go off subject, this poem reminded me of my neck and how my pain spikes depending on the weather. An odd thought in relation to this piece?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No, not odd at all. I am acutely attuned to the weather. I’m very affected by levels of sunlight, length of days and now, with cryoglobulinemia temperature rules my life. If any part of my body drops below normal body temp the result is pain and if exposed to real cold for long, it could kill me. So…I get it. We’re all affected by the weather. We’re part of the natural world no matter what we do to separate ourselves from it. However, I think we creative types are more in tune with our surroundings than those less tapped in to their creative side. I think of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, in which he actually depicted the energy waves emitted from stars that are now visible with high powered telescopes. Poor Vincent, he was an excruciatingly sensitive instrument.

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      1. Your comments are so beautiful and poetic. People are in tune with the environment. And perhaps people with our pains are more in tuned. Yeah, Vincent was sensitive. I like to think his greatness oringinated in his sensitivity


      2. My grandmother raised me on Van Gogh. I have a deep connection with his work. He like me, was a professional amateur artist who received no monetary award or societal acclaim for his work. However, in his state of anonymity, he was able to produce the kind of work that became famous and speaks loudly across generations by its own merit. I hope somewhere, that kind of work is being produced now. Art has become so perverted in our culture. We measure worth monetarily and miss the boat on real value. Vincent was very sensitive and the story of his life also, speaks as true art speaks. It’s not easy to be a creative and stay true to our purpose.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. This is so true. You go to art galleries here in New York and see dog poop as a work of art. Somewhere an undiscovered toils and creates the brilliant works that will be admired long after he is gone. Doesn’t seem fair. How would Vincent feel to know his work is priceless? And your last statement is so true. Today so many sell out and forget their original purpose.

        Liked by 1 person

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