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"Giving everyone their fifteen bytes of fame".
May 2002
Page 6
Painted Rock
(continued from page 1)

With the help of many separate families and individuals over several generations, Painted Rock has worn countless faces and has celebrated a wide range of events. Below are shown just a few of the many faces of Painted Rock.

Pilar Pobil
(continued from page 2)

Following is the poem that Shawn Dallas Stradley wrote about Pilar Pobil:

The Spanish Woman

Pomegranate strength

It happened right there
in front of all the society guests,
the virile flowers,
the voluptuous paintings
and the quiet green of evening.
She was even married,
but this did not matter to my young-man heart.

Cornflower beauty

It was in her garden,
no one knew
no one noticed
no one suspected.
The peace of her victorian home
resting in the avenued streets
with strong tides of color
rising and blooming throughout.
her native home recreated,
not the rocky mountains
of my native west.
Her life is art of true intent,
no pretense.

Lavender vulnerability

Paintings of iris
clematis and sunflowers,
sensuous women,
and silent cathedral masses,
bright shrimping boats prepared to set sail,
repose in the garden,
as do quiet guests
and brightly painted chairs
in silent green alcoves
along walks of stone and brick
edged with moss
an a cool summers eve.

Chartreuse simplicity

This place
far removed from my dusty life,
into vibrant expressions of emotion and joy
that tumble from voluptuous canvases
under wisteria trellises,
like walking through
breathing in
one of her potent paintings.

Disarming sunflower

I see a woman dressed as a summer memory
My Duchess of Denver
wearing yellow pants and jacket,
and a straw hat rimmed with bright flowers
handing out invitations
in the Colorado sun
to an afternoon cocktail party.
The only other woman I have known
whose very life is art and poetry.

Rose serenity

Wine and song,
green and light
rise and flow through the garden,
como relatos de Espanol
and stories in English of
distant travels,
ideas and art
softly mix and float across the misty air.
Intellectuals pontificate on cerebral theories
of no consequence
amidst the grandeur of the peace.

Pumpkin innocence

Some speak of the chaos
of this colorful collection,
chairs with flowers,
growing, as it were, in the garden,
and flowers flowing into the house.
For me,
no chaos,
only unity,
perfection of being.

Intimate sea

Ha, how can I call her old?
Simply because she has spent more years
awake than I?
I remember the rose garden of the Queen
and the moonlit walk
con la senorita Maria.
Now, I walk with the queen
in her rose garden,
and return three mysterious nights
to bathe in the tranquil jeweled evenings.

Midnight harmony

I, the awkward young poet,
wander freely and invited
among garden rooms.
She, the queen,
with vibrant eyes paints stories,
taking time with each young man
explaining the paintings that take their fancy
como el toro negro del Medio Dia
with reality indistinguishable
beneath the hot Spanish sun
las tres modelas sensuosas

Fuchsia clarity

And now the guests are gone,
the paintings taken in from the garden.
Soft raindrops silently begin to fall.
Y yo,
en el jardin de color y pacion
in love
with the young Spanish woman.

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