Analysis why i am not a painter

I drink; we drink. I look up. The painting is going on, and I go, and the days go by. The painting is finished. But me? One day I am thinking of a color: orange. I write a line about orange. Pretty soon it is a whole page of words, not lines. Then another page. There should be so much more, not of orange, of words, of how terrible orange is and life. Days go by. It is even in prose, I am a real poet. Like distant echoes only partly heard, the poem seems to suggest, language reverberates through art, a palimpsest of lost thoughts and changed ideas.

Anderson Family, The other words in the painting, too, follow these lines exactly as they do in the poem. All art, of course, can mean in manifold different ways, but the use of words in images explicitly turns the viewer into a reader as well, converting an ostensibly passive act into a very active one, underscoring how meanings are always the result of readings, of individual interpretive acts. The painting would be nothing without that word and if he used a different word the painting would be completely different.

We learn how its not necessarily about the finished piece Goldberg finished and named Sardines. Its not necessarily where you end up but how you got there. I immediately thought of how we write in caps when sending a text or email to emphasize a point. I decided to Google the painting, and after quite a few seconds of staring at the image, I noticed that the word sardines is actually spelled out onto the canvas, in place of where the fish should be.

I think the painter is playing on the ambiguities of words and images. Just like poems are a form of art, this piece of art takes the form of a poem.

I agree with the previous comment; I think that he is holding the two art forms side by side, his poetry and the painting. How artists minds seem to work in the same way despite the difference in tools to perform such works of arts words, pictures.

Goldberg, essentially does the same with the final product of his painting. The artist has an image and then that image is either directly conveyed on the paper or canvas, or it remains in only the title of the work! Skip to content. Why do you think that Goldberg named his painting sardines after the rejected sardines? This entry was posted in Uncategorized.

But me? One day I am thinking of a color: orange. I write a line about orange. Pretty soon it is a whole page of words, not lines. Then another page. There should be so much more, not of orange, of words, of how terrible orange is and life. Days go by. It is even in prose, I am a real poet. However, in its execution, this poem seems to concentrate more on the similarities between the two.

In fact, one can even go so far as to say that the poem is a celebration of art in all its forms. In fact, these two stanzas can almost be read in parallel, with the same creative impulse being expressed, the one at his easel, the other at his typewriter. Thus, both the poet and the painter are inspired by a particular word, though neither word is immediately obvious in the finished work. Why I Am Not a Painter is recognisably a poem of the New York School following, as it does, the I-do-this-I-do-that pacing of many of the works identified with this school of poets.

He uses an introductory stanza of four lines to set up the premise of his being a poet and not a painter, although, almost as an aside, he lets slip that he thinks he might like to be a painter.

He then employs two further stanzas, each of thirteen lines.