COLORSCAPES

Lee Woodman’s Colorscapes is more than a poetry collection; it’s a gallery of human perception. Each poem is a canvas where science, history, and feeling intersect. Woodman writes with the insight of an art historian and the heart of a traveler, using color to explore the boundaries between intellect and emotion.

The book opens with her vivid recollection of childhood in India and studies in Paris, a life “drenched in color.” That same richness infuses her verse. “Black Is Not a Color” ponders shadow and grief, while “Yellow into Yellow” channels Carl Jung’s theory of intuition: “I can love my open passion / I can be the clearest truth.” Woodman uses each hue to investigate human psychology.

She has a gift for making the abstract accessible. “The Price We Pay for Yellow” connects Van Gogh’s chrome pigments to the literal toxicity of beauty: “Lead chrome darkened with age, like real-life bowers.” “Contradictory Red” moves from Renaissance paint to modern protest, tracing red’s power as a symbol of love, anger, and revolution.

Yet not all is intensity. “A Scold of Blue Jays” and “Two Crickets, Two Bees, and a Hydrangea” balance stillness with movement, showing how nature mirrors emotional rhythm. “Recompose,” one of her most profound poems, reflects on mortality: “I want to be dirt when I die.” It’s neither morbid nor sad; it’s an acceptance that life cycles through color, returning to earth.

What’s most engaging is Woodman’s precision. She knows art; her references to Vermeer, Kandinsky, and Alma Thomas never feel pretentious but conversational, inviting readers to see as painters do. She blends fine-art history with sensory language in ways that even readers unfamiliar with visual arts can appreciate.

What sets Colorscapes apart from other art-inspired poetry collections is Woodman’s ability to speak across disciplines and experiences. Whether you’re a museum-goer, a scientist fascinated by light, or simply someone who appreciates how a sunset can shift your mood, her poems invite you into conversation. She bridges the analytical and the emotional with ease, reminding readers that art and life share the same palette of curiosity, imperfection, and brilliance. By the final pages, Woodman convinces us that seeing the world through color isn’t escapism, it’s enlightenment. Colorscapes doesn’t just describe beauty; it teaches us how to notice it again, how to carry it into the everyday moments that make up our own human canvas.

This collection will appeal to anyone interested in the connection between creativity and consciousness, artists, poets, scientists, and casual readers alike. Colorscapes proves that color is not just a visual stimulus but a way of thinking and feeling. Reading it is like standing before a Rothko; you don’t just see it; you feel yourself change.