shells in shards, shaped like striated musculature
she carved them from the flesh of beaches
with husked sand, carapaces and skull segments
tied and strung into Adam’s bones
with the dust of grinding suspended in the air
and chipped flakes of cartilage silting her worktops
she breathed life into her work while particulates
drained her own life to an ebb like a quicksand
©BH, 2019
Originally intended for Poetry24's 'In Brief' (not yet published). This poem was inspired by the story (linked below) of Gillian Genser, a Toronto artist, whose 14-year project to sculpt Adam from mussel shells and other found natural materials, left her suffering from heavy metal poisoning.
As she says on her website, '…I had become part of my artistic statement.'
That's perhaps the paradox of our time. We are all part of the planetary artwork. We can't separate ourselves from it. What ever, injures it, injures ourselves.
I've also written a short companion piece. It started as words following the eight lines here but, the sense of them seemed to ask not to be complicated. The second poem, Poison in the Stone, reiterates, restates and maybe repeats the theme. You can judge whether they are best as separate, if connected, entities.
Art Poisons the Artist
BBC Website
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