Does man love Art? Man visits Art, but squirms. Art hurts. Art urges voyages-- and it is easier to stay at home, the nice beer ready. In commonrooms we belch, or sniff, or scratch. Are raw. But we must cook ourselves and style ourselves for Art, who is a requiring courtesan. We squirm. We do not hug the Mona Lisa. We may touch or tolerate an astounding fountain, or a horse-and-rider. At most, another Lion. Observe the tall cold of a Flower which is as innocent and as guilty, as meaningful and as meaningless as any other flower in the western field. * * * * We are reading and discussing "Chicago Picasso" during the ekphrastic poetry writing workshop at the Mozart Park Fieldhouse on January 27, 2014. Click here to find out more. |