Who cares if I put a gun to your face? It was for art’s sake and – just so you know – it could have been a cannon I’ve decorated enough of those to know how they work It was for art’s sake only, I promise I didn’t enjoy the look of terror on your face I just wanted to study it I’m sorry I scared you, but it wouldn’t have been the same if I’d asked I needed your raw emotion to express the Gestalt of fear It could’ve been worse you know I could’ve sent a hornet from the future a Schnellbomber carrying my name would you have liked that any better? I assure you I tried to use my own face but I find it hard to scare myself more than the evil spirits inside me already do I’ve laughed, I cried, pinched myself in front of mirrors documenting the deformations disarming the dangers of being peculiar For art’s sake, remember? my intentions were good sixty-nine Kopfstücke the face an index of the mind unnamed - words blind us to the truth what is it that we have in common? tin for tat hard features, soft stone chips not chisels uncontemporary art unprecedented unshouldered the burden to please I imagine myself apologising Laughing like a Messerschmidt they say That would be funny
The Met brought me another case of love at first sight today. Check out this 30-minute documentary if you want to fall in love too:
The prompt at napowrimo.net today was to “write a poem that delves into the meaning of your first or last name.” I started to look for names to write bout on the website of The Met, because I want to feature one of their art works every day this #NaPoWriMo. I’m so glad I did.