I am left with the remnants
Of James Turrel’s Lightscape exhibition
But fortunately I am led
To a Youtube conversation
Between the lucid artist
And his enquiring patron for the season
They talk of going inside self
With your meditation
(Right up my street)
Light is not formed
Like clay, or wax
Nor sculpted like wood or stone
(Did I tell you I was an Electrical Engineer
Who specialised in lighting)
The rules are different
Paint and light
Do not merge in the same ways
Their resulting colours
Are not in anyway the same
(No, I did not know that)
Using light to create spaces
100 sky spaces are created
Across all the continents
We are made for twilight
Not the bright light of midday
(Really)
Just as in the way that Rothko
Has colour coming out of darkness
Twilight arrives before sunrise
Twilight arrives after sunset
(I always liked Rothko)
The love of how change happens
You, on your island
Have a maritime sky
The softness of which
Is truly beautiful
(I so so agree with his every word)
