Sometimes, you can tell when an abstract-expressionist tried too hard to be non-representational. Like they said to themselves, “oh, if I could just paint something that lookedÂ nothing like a flower, then all the other abstract-expressionists wouldÂ really respect me, and I’d win that big commission to do the commemorative portrait of the Dean of Fine Arts. I’ve got five gallons of lime green paint, a 20-foot canvas and a single ‘Twilight Sparkle‘ sticker, and I’m just waiting for my dream to come true.”
Ballet slipper? Statement against patriarchy? Cheese? Your call.
My vote is for cheese. A big, festive cheese that just emerged from its cheesehole to the wild adoration of hundreds of fans. A single streamer of confetti winds around its torso–or maybe a ribbon that reads, simply,Â “Some Cheese.” As it walks into the light, slowly, reverentially, an aspirant to the true experience of cheese approaches with a precisely proportioned knife, and cuts a single wedge from it, as tender as a lover,Â admittedlyÂ a lover with a very sharp knife, but a lover nonetheless. She, or possibly he but I’m imagining a woman wrapped in a winding piece ofÂ diaphanousÂ silk, pares a wedge from it, pauses, treasuring the aroma and then bites. She smiles, and says…”It is cheesy.”
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