Show & Tell: Inspiration

There are two things that inspire me most: art and other artists. And when I say art, I mean all the various art forms: paint, design, dance, music, theatre, etc. I draw inspiration from seeing other's creativity and talents put to use, and I'd like to think that each time I view art it secretly implants some coding that I can put to use at later times--for example, if I see an exciting painting, I am hoping my brain will at least subconsciously store why it is so delightful--is it the composition, the subject matter, the colors, the shadows? Whatever the greatness is, I hope it is stored in my brain to be decoded as I practice and grow in my arts--graphic design/poetry writing.
Here are just a few examples of what inspires me:

Graphic Art

Unknown designer (perhaps a UB student or staff member); I am constantly inspired by the UB posters I see:

 

Art

My first and only (thus far) trip to MoMa (The Museum of Modern Art in NY). I adore Cezanne (apparently I was trying to blend with that shirt choice)! 

Dance

Ballet is my favorite dance form. This is my 13-year-old niece:

Music

I don't have pictures for music, but while I love all music genres, classical moves me most and my favorite instrument is the cello (Yo Yo Ma, anyone?).

Poetry

From one of my other blogs, you already know I like Billy Collins and Lucille Clifton. I also love Pablo Neruda.

Bird

It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

~Pablo Neruda