Some thoughts inspired by October Outside (1963) by Bernadette Ruof
How does one look at something beautiful? Perhaps there are primers about doing such a thing on many online gallery sites. I don’t know the “right way” but the way I choose, I apply to not only looking at paintings but at any beautiful thing that crosses my path.
There is always something in a Burchfield painting that I don’t want to see but it insists that I do. In October Outside, 1963, I don’t want to see that grey, weather-worn shabby door. But there it is, right in the middle of the paper. Do you find yourself drawn to the middle of a painting? As I stand before it, I stare deeply into the painting, eye drawn to the golden leaves, that door, that door that reminds me of Aunt Jean’s paint-peeling grey basement screen door which I entered tentatively during my childhood summers. The honeysuckle vine in this painting is still alive, even in October, with amethyst blooms.
What else? Look right-—the reflection in the window of the door. Am I in there? Look to the bottom of the painting, where the glass has corroded around the frame. That’s October for you—would I see that corrosion in spring? And if I did, would I just feel bad about it like I do now or would I rush off to find a scraper.
Before I leave, I breathe that painting in. I think you have to take a panoramic breath of it, if there is such a thing, to bring inside of you all of what it is to you, old basement doors and porches you sat on and vines and trees that just keep catching your eye. That golden wood porch floor…how would I walk on a golden floor?
What other things do I see in the same way on an October afternoon, outside? The Farmer’s Market that is a little less crowded, a little sad, really, off to the right around the edges of the last stand, where yellow squashes lay on tables instead of green and cream leeks and curly kale.
And the stadium of the Buffalo Bills, “The Ralph,” on a Sunday afternoon, such emerald green grass and contrasting white lines, muscle-armed players warming up in the golden sun, the smells of cold beer and tail-gating sausages, the sounds of a crowd, singing the Shout song.
The Bills do make me “wanna shout’! This eerily inviting October Outside(1963) painting by Burchfield makes me wanna shout! The trees I see on my walks, the array of squash-like vegetables in outside markets, the sweet clean autumn air outside my door every October morning—all of it makes me wanna shout. But I actually don’t shout. I’m a quiet person. So inside, I shout, throw my hands up and shout:
October’s makin’ it happen now.
We’ve got the spirit now.
Hey-ey-ey-ey
A Buffalonian by birth and by choice, Bernadette Ruof is a retired high school English teacher. She taught English 9-12, Journalism, and other electives at Williamsville East High School until 2007. She was a newspaper advisor and class advisor and garden club advisor. She led workshops for teachers regarding New York State English Regents testing. She has been writing privately all of her life. She shares her work with family and friends. One of her poems was once published in the Buffalo News. Some of her writing was accepted as part of the Listener Commentaries series at WBFO radio. She currently works as an administrative assistant at Calvary Episcopal Church.