Work > 'Sacred Scaffolding' Series (2010-2014)

Forgotten Wings
Forgotten Wings
oil paint on canvas
60 1/2" x 72"

"And it was at that age... poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among raging fires
or returning alone,
there it was, without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind.
Something knocked in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing;
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
and open,
palpitating plantations,
the darkness perforated,
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
likeness, image of
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss.
I wheeled with the stars.
My heart broke free on the open sky.

-Pablo Neruda, 'Poetry'

Private Collection, US