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| Timothy Greenfield-Sanders Joan Mitchell 1981 gelatin silver print Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell City Landscape 1955 oil on linen Art Institute of Chicago |
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| Joan Mitchell Untitled before 1956 oil on paper Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Joan Mitchell Hemlock 1956 oil on canvas Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell August, rue Daguerre 1957 oil on canvas Phillips Collection, Washington DC |
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| Joan Mitchell Marlin 1960 oil on canvas Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Joan Mitchell Untitled 1960 oil on canvas Milwaukee Art Museum |
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| Joan Mitchell Untitled 1960 screenprint Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell Rock Bottom 1960-61 oil on canvas Blanton Museum of Art, Austin, Texas |
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| Joan Mitchell Sunflower III 1969 oil on canvas Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Joan Mitchell Clearing 1973 oil on canvas (three panels) Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell Canada I 1975 oil on canvas (three panels) Guggenheim Museum, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell Place for Puppies 1976 oil on canvas (two panels) Guggenheim Museum, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell Rosebud 1977 oil on canvas Buffalo AKG Art Museum, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell Bedford II 1981 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Joan Mitchell Pastel 1991 pastel on paper Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
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| Joan Mitchell Little Weeds I 1992 etching and aquatint National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
Parable
First divesting ourselves of worldly goods, as St. Francis teaches,
in order that our souls not be distracted
by gain and loss, and in order also
that our bodies be free to move
easily at the mountain passes, we had then to discuss
whither or where we might travel, with the second question being
should we have a purpose, against which
many of us argued fiercely that such purpose
corresponded to worldly goods, meaning a limitation or constriction,
whereas others said it was by this word we were consecrated
pilgrims rather than wanderers: in our minds, the word translated as
a dream, a something sought, so that by concentrating we might see it
glimmering among the stones, and not
pass blindly by; each
further issue we debated equally fully, the arguments going back and forth,
so that we grew, some said, less flexible and more resigned,
like soldiers in a useless war. And snow fell upon us, and wind blew,
which in time abated – where the snow had been, many flowers appeared,
and where the stars had shone, the sun rose over the tree line
so that we had shadows again; many times this happened.
Also rain, also flooding sometimes, also avalanches, in which
some of us were lost, and periodically we would seem
to have achieved an agreement, our canteens
hoisted upon our shoulders; but always that moment passed, so
(after many years) we were still at that first stage, still
preparing to begin a journey, but we were changed nevertheless;
we could see this in one another; we had changed although
we never moved, and one said, ah, behold how we have aged, traveling
from day to night only, neither forward nor sideward, and this seemed
in a strange way miraculous. And those who believed we should have a purpose
believed this was the purpose, and those who felt we must remain free
in order to encounter truth felt it had been revealed.
– Louise Glück (2014)