During my brief visit to Chicago a couple of months back, I was taken by friends to the Art Institute of Chicago. It was an art paradise – never seen so many in Picassos in one place, apart from anything else. There were many works that gripped me. But one in particular has been impossible to shake from my mind for some reason: Paul Klee’s Sunset (1930).
I’ve been struggling to articulate what I think about it, what it provokes in me. In the last few years I’ve started writing some amateurish verse, not for wide consumption at all, more for my own mind’s sake. For as E M Forster once asked, ‘How can I know what I think until I see what I say?’
So here is a stab at a poetic reflection. Not great verse, but it may resonate with a few – so I post it here (though not without a little trepidation!)