Cartier-Bresson’s Alberto Giacometti
Going Out For Breakfast, Paris.
He looks like a carved wooden gnome
or a mushroom that might kill you.
The street is so wet from the rain
that he seems to be walking on water,
a hunched savior in search of a
warm baguette and strong coffee.
Even the trees look cold:
thin, exasperated, over it all.
The artist is mid-step,
toes of one foot raised
as if he’s debating whether
to go on or turn back.
The gray and the rain are strong.
The stomach is stronger.
It’s this, just this,
then back to the tiny studio
crammed wall to wall
with imagination realized;
electricity in the brain transferred
to the hands, to the clay,
to each of us admirers.
But first, coffee.
/ / /
22 July 2025
Charlottesville VA
In the latest Staple Day newsletter from Field Notes, they included a link to a photo and an essay about Alberto Giacometti. It inspired this poem, which I of course wrote in my Field Notes notebook (below). The world is so full of inspiration and I love having a notebook in which to capture it.
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