Major’s not minor

From start to finish...
From start to finish...


On February 11th, I attended the Considering Time Through Art & Poetry workshop at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco.  It was an intimate group of fourteen artists and educators who gathered to discuss strategies on how to bridge visual and literary arts through poetry.  We discussed making the ancient new again, how poetry improves critical thinking skills, and how important interactive museum activities are to classroom learning.

Devorah Major led the group masterfully.  She was San Francisco’s Poet Laureate from 2002 to 2006.  Major has traveled extensively throughout the world, written books, lectured, performed, and success will undoubtedly be in all her future endeavors.  Anyways, it was intellectual bliss to get insight on creative writing practices through poetry.

Ms. Major took us on a tour of ancient artifacts and art.  She then proudly read the poetry of elementary and junior high students that were inspired by the objects in the museum.  The group was eventually let “loose” to compose one poem and share their discovery through a written creation.

The experience reinforced how important writing is for artists and everyone.  Expressing yourself through words equals power.  According to Devorah “I think there’s this idea that you gotta be set right now, and I don’t think you have to be set right now.  I think what you do is you find something that excites you, and you do that and maybe it grows tangentially from that…”

Ideas are not minor notions but thoughts that can grow into major changes and influences in life.  Without ideas and dreams the world would be a black hole of creativity.  I say plant those seeds and see what grows…

Poem by Devorah Major:


inside the evening sky


i don’t know the name

of the blues that shadow our path

one is sweet and light, a cool meringue

another sharp, but still

a third thick, pressing down upon the rest


cobalt they would say

of the uppermost-

a blue that hums deeply

a harmony of firmament

refusing clouds

denying stars

shining inside the cosmos

a forever blue

where life dies

and is reborn

an eternal blue

that exists above the storm


a blue that doesn’t suffer discord

that would smile if it had a mouth

embrace if it was armed

comfort if it grew heart


but instead it arcs

a concert of blues

hovering over the earth

in an endless ocean

of impossible quiet

thick with blue beyond blue

a blue that disappears

when clutched in the fist

a blue that is

invisible and solid


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