painting 101

‘never smile in a painting’

opines the artist to his students—

‘now,

I don’t mean to say that depression makes better art,

but it does’

the class erodes into a waning chorus of half-hearted laughter,

dissonant agreement with his prudent sentiment

regarding the obvious truth.

Obviously—

obviously,

meaningful

means the fluorescent hum of gas station bathroom lights,

white-knuckled grip on porcelain,

sweaty red-eyes, cheek-stains,

fist-in-mouth cries.

Obviously,

the moment that merits a painting is a 

glimpse of tangled limbs

grey sheets in the morning

tendrils of dusty light tickling eyelashes—

dawn passed through an age ago but at least the day is half-gone and 

there are fewer waking hours until it’s time to

dream again in color and

obviously,

the enervated artist

emaciated bag-of-bones

is more inspired than the 

plump vivacious Platonist, and 

vitality is the crux of infertility,

the barren canvas-scape born of the fool 

with a paintbrush and a grin—

‘never smile in a painting,’

he quips.

And we laugh,

obviously.