The Art of Gene Dillard

Winter Scene of Gene Dillard's home.

***
Gene Dillard has been my friend for twenty-seven years. He became a good poet in spite of himself. In Honduras, he wrote this one:

           BANANAS

I saw his bent frame
walking toward the Mercado,
across his shoulders
a large pole with
huge bunches of bananas
hanging from each side.
Images rippled 
through my mind 
like corrugated sheet metal
used for roofing
in the third world
I thought he was a troubadour
carrying many fascinating
odes encased with
a protective outer skin,
waiting for a chance
to recite.

***
His real love came later: building sculptures

Tree to left of house

Then bottle walls

Then mosaic trees, flowers, stars and mirrors, on his garage and house walls.

back of house and porch

Then he went inside; made tables and chairs, walls and skylights.

Everywhere he looked, he saw where the beautiful could transform the ordinary. People came to stare, to wonder at his patience. Mosaic work takes months, sometimes a whole year to remake one wall. He dreams new visions for his house museum, then starts work.

Gene at top of tower.

He's a great artist, isn't he?