Art Is Not Tame – Henry David Thoreau

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“Art is not tame, and Nature is not wild, in the ordinary sense. A perfect work of man’s art would also be wild or natural in a good sense.”

Henry David Thoreau

Attribution: Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862), U.S. philosopher, author, naturalist. A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers (1849), in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 1, p. 337, Houghton Mifflin (1906).
(Image: magenta bougainvillea summer –  copyright Imogen Crest 2007.)
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imogen88

Seeking balance from corporate life years back, Monika Roleff stumbled across Lemuria in cyberspace, and became Imogen Crest, Hermit muse, under the influence of Heather Blakey, educator and Webmistress of Soul Food Cafe - famous global writing and art group. "Imogen" has never looked back, and creates the world as she sees it, through the eyes of nature, in word and art. In "real life" Monika Roleff is a writer, nature photographer, consultant, runs vintage fairs and events, with an extensive admin and retail fashion background, and can be contacted on indigo_moon22 at hotmail dot com.

7 thoughts on “Art Is Not Tame – Henry David Thoreau”

  1. Monika I like what Thoreau saidabout art being wild.
    I was reminded of the protest against the building of a race track in a beautiful public park way back in 1994, at Albert Park Victoria ,. this is but a small piece of poetry written
    and if I had a digital camera I could show all the beautiful works of art that were MADE against the felling of trees.

    I have on my kitchen wall a ring of native buds,cones,bark ,nuts etc being a part of the trees chopped down…over 1100 of them…
    The poem says this.
    NO NO
    ************
    No No,
    I do not
    I do not want
    Your Grand Prix
    not your petit prix
    nor your petit petit petit prix
    I am a woman of integrity
    Par-don-ez moi,pas de tout
    Pas de toot
    Toot Toot.

    No piston packed ,pump primed,pit stop,fuel injected,vrum vrum
    No No not for me.

    No toy cars
    No boy cars
    No joy cars
    Pas de joyeath cars not for me

    Take your formula from my lake
    From my lapping waters
    from my green green park
    From my sporting fields
    From my playground of delight

    Where are my trees
    You have cut them down
    My waving branches
    My solid trunk
    My wrinkled bark

    All gone for a metal stack a racing track
    No means no to me
    No Grand Prix Racing track for me

    Written by Sandra Shotlander
    1995…….

    Lois ( Muse of the Sea) 28.12.07.

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