This episode of Sunday Studio is brought to you by LOVE.
I spent last weekend in a love bubble with the all-time best group of people in the world. Not an overstatement. We gathered in celebration – in JOY! – as our stunningly brilliant and unendingly kind friends J & A jumped the broom. (Just to be clear, there was no broom, but there were plenty of loving gazes and tortillas. And Sea Breezes, or so I heard )
J & A aren’t just in love. They are love. And perhaps the most challenging possible goal of art is to evoke the rich, juicy flesh of that state. You try. You point. You never quite get there.
Along with my very humble attempt to paint love, I shared this Gwendolyn Brooks poem with the bride and groom – and I have no qualms about sharing it with you too. Love is not precious or exclusive or rationed out in sensible portions. Love abounds.
Let it be alleys. Let it be a hall
Whose janitor javelins epithet and thought
To cheapen hyacinth darkness that we sought
And played we found, rot, make the petals fall.
Let it be stairways, and a splintery box
Where you have thrown me, scraped me with your kiss,
Have honed me, have released me after this
Cavern kindness, smiled away our shocks.
That is the birthright of our lovely love
In swaddling clothes. Not like that Other one.
Not lit by any fondling star above.
Not found by any wise men, either. Run.
People are coming. They must not catch us here
Definitionless in this strict atmosphere.
May you feel this space inside your skin. May you see it in another’s eyes. May you taste it with each breath. Because the truest surprise?
You are love, too.
Happy Sunday! xo