John Bellany was a maverick, a complex and extraordinary character for whom Life and Art were inextricably bound. I cannot start to describe how moving I find his paintings and his life-story. As a writer, I can only offer my poetic reaction to the portrait of his father, before which I have spent many hours contemplating the intensity of this expression of deep humanity.
This poem takes the form of the Lord's Prayer, and weaves it into a eulogy, not only for the artist's father, but also for all fathers, indeed, all parents. And, for that matter, all humanity, since we are all recipients of Art's legacy. In the case of John Bellany, we are truly gifted.
His Father
meditating upon John Bellany’s portrait of his father
at the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art
My
Father, who is now in Heaven,
how
we hallowed your name.
Your
kingdom was the seas, but you
drifted
into dry dock. Earthed, your
cigarette
incense lifted up like prayer.
Our
Mother baked our daily bread
while
you dredged manna
from
the unforgiving oceans, fed
five
thousand hungry mouths, then
trespassed
upon those depths
no
more. Weren’t you ever tempted
to
return? Your uxorious duty led
You
to ink a blue tattoo; anchor your
devotion
in a permanent inscription,
while
you sat, marooned – Regal, yet
stripped
of your omnipotent rigging –
to
glory in a love that isn’t puffed up:
reflecting
what you were, and all that He
instructed
us to do; who sits at your right
hand
on high and fished for all humanity.
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