Since 1999, I’ve been a clown artist. I’ve sold some of my artwork for profit and other pieces I’ve donated for charitable purposes to be sold at auction. Also, I’ve been a clown art collector for over thirty-five years and both my work and the clown art I purchase grace the walls of my home and line the shelves of my display cases.

Writing, however, is my current passion. But the two art forms, at times, can blend together, as you will see in . . .

What Do You Really Know About The Clown?

    

     Clowns freak some people out. One of my colleagues at my next to last job told me, in no uncertain terms, “If you want to meet with me, we will do it in my office. The clown pictures on your walls make me very nervous. And I’m not going to subject myself to being surrounded by your drawings.” I’m glad, however, others who have seen my work have liked and appreciated it.

     Whether we want to admit it or not, we are all very much like the clown. We awake each morning and select a costume from our wardrobe to wear. Then some of us paint our faces, and all of us arrange the hair on our heads, while some of us create images of how we want to be seen with the hair that decorates our eyes, cheeks, and chin. When complete, we are ready to face our audience and attempt to solicit cheers and applause from them. If we fear the clown, we may be in fear of the very people we meet on a daily basis, or . . . be afraid of ourselves.  

     When I draw, I have no idea what type of clown will emerge. I let my imagination flow to my fingers and then, with felt tip pen or colored pencil in hand, onto the blank white page. In a short time, looking back at me are smiling, or sometimes sad, clown faces. So, through my poetry and art, let me introduce you to the clown.

Understanding The Clown

The clown,

     often misunderstood,

     is liked by some,

     but dreaded by others.

This funny creature,

     in crazy dress,

     with painted face,

     entices the crowd.

Creative, engaging,

     the clown

     struts before the audience,

     showing no fear.

The throng

     of gawking onlookers

     sees what the clown

     wants them to see.

At times, reflecting back

     to them

     an image

     of themselves.

Playing a fine-tuned role,

     the clown challenges the crowd

     to become part

     of the show.

Not sure what is real,

     they remain at arms length,

     truth cloaked

     behind costume and deception.

Left unanswered,

     the question—

     does anyone

     understand the clown?

The Mask

At center stage, stands the clown, with painted face and glowing smile.

A mask, presented for all to see, gathers applause, in anticipation of what   

     comes next.

But then, the smile diminishes and the luster fades.

Feelings, hidden beneath the masked exterior, aching to be shared, rise to the 

     surface

    

With great effort, however, this vulnerability is reined in—cloaked once more in 

     darkness.

The mask, now back in place, provides the confidence to continue the

      performance.

The smile resurfaces, as the clown again engages the audience.

Standing tall, with head held high, applause received once more.

Clowns

Many faces do they have,

All hiding what they feel.

Their dreams are tucked below,

A mask of laughter and good cheer.

Searching for the happiness within,

Which all around see and feel.

They joke and clown around,

Sharing with the world a smile.

To all, they display a comic side,

But to none, show they the soul of the clown.

The Clown in Me

The clown in me is ringing.

The clown in me is singing.

I come out and show my face to the crowd.

I try not to be afraid,

My demeanor by no means staid,

As I scream my cheers aloud.

Playing a game of sorrow,

Others from me laughter borrow.

I smile and turn their world around.

I paint a picture bright and bold,

Through my eyes and gestures, a story told.

To the world, my “words” resound.

Playing a game of merry chase,

A crowd of strangers I do face.

Sporting a smile, with protruded chin,

I stumble, bumble, and play the fool.

Humble yet proud, this is the rule.

The strength I show comes from within.

Blending into an audience, in which I want to be accepted,

I joke, cry, and try to do what is expected—

Producing joy and sadness, a mixture draped like a shroud.

I strut and play this comic game.

Yet deadly serious is my aim.

Poised with confidence, I bow to the crowd.

My World As A Clown

I live in a land

     of fantasies and dreams,

     and play

     with the creations

     of my mind.

My world

     is a circus,

     in which I dance

     on life’s stage,

     and gather applause.

I make funny faces,

     play silly games,

     try to be touched,

     and touch

     in return.

I laugh

     with the people

     laughing at me

     and cry for the people

     who cannot laugh.

My eyes

     meet those of others,

     both young and old,

     blending their worlds

     with mine.

Touching their hearts

     and challenging

     their minds,

     I create images

     with which they play.

With them,

     I share a world

     of promise and dreams,

     the world of my heart

     and my mind.

Copyright © 2020 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.