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The story behind ‘Eye of the Beholder’

By Staff | Jun 2, 2011

By John J. Griesbaum

Pam Brodersen is a full-time artist and Sanibel resident. For more than 20 years, she worked in Chicago where she maintained a commercial photography studio. Her photo illustrations have appeared in national ad campaigns for big-name companies, such as Kellogg, Hallmark and General Mills.

Brodersen is also a longtime friend of Sanibel resident John J. Griesbaum, who worked for several years as a planner at a major Memphis firm and formerly served as Director of Planning for the Memphis and Shelby County Planning Commission. He has had several articles on planning and related subjects published throughout the years.

As an artist who ventured into the digital art arena, Brodersen continues to win awards for her work that has placed her at the forefront of the photographic digital art movement. When she created her picture of an eye, on the top right, her pal Griesbaum thought he could create a prettier eye, shown at bottom right.

So when Griesbaum found a poem that had been written about Brodersen’s picture of an eye, he decided he would write a poem about his eye. This is what he penned:

Ode to an Eye

By Pam Broderson

By John J. Griesbaum

A springboard to thought, giving life to ideas,

and substance to hope and devotion.

The eye serves all with a means of cognition,

and in fire the pluck of emotion.

Weeping eyes tell sadly their story,

in silence, no need to explain.

Alone in their pensive reluctance,

unable to suffer the pain.

But finer in style and better in wit,

is an eye that raucously chortles.

Its sanguinity is there to experience by all,

giving bliss to its brotherly portals.

Ablaze in its fury, scorching heat in her glare,

revengeful intent is the root of its flare.

The evil of green-eyed resentfulness shows,

in sickening flickers of lightening-like blows.

Unfocused and staring and empty of thought,

an eye that is nothing has nothing to give.

No ray of cognition, no substance or means.

Lying deep in its socket, no life to relive.

So how is this copious range so alluring,

appearing not to one or another alike.

Tis only a thought, no mystery unfolds.

The eye of the eye with conviction beholds.