Poetry of Onions

…Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished…” – Mary Oliver, Messenger

I spent a recent rainy morning with two artist friends at Walker Farm in Brattleboro, Vermont. The sunflowers and peaches, carrots and tomatoes, and a riot of bright-colored petunias in the greenhouse were a painter’s dream. But somehow I found myself drawn to an old shed, where several bushels of onions caught the dim light. If you haven’t read Mary Oliver’s poem, Messenger, I recommend it in its entirety. This part about “mostly standing still and learning to be astonished” struck me as especially fitting for this particular moment — where something as ordinary as an onion becomes strikingly beautiful when we really look at it. What better work is there for an artist?

onions

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9 thoughts on “Poetry of Onions

  1. I love everything about this. Your onions are astonishing and those words so impactful. I look forward to reading that poem. Thank you for sharing!

  2. Walker Farm is my go – to farm stand. They are well-loved in the community, and support other local food producers. Didn’t you love their topiary? And British telephone booth? Great, helpful staff also. I love the way you’ve captured the translucent onion skins. I can hear them rustle.

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