Quote & Poem 3/9/2017

'A single rose can be my garden... a single friend, my world.' Leo Buscaglia

The Single Girl’s Guide to Art

I. UNITY

On her dress she wears her body. —Blaise Cendrars

Black, black, all black! The essence of all that is deep, and you have to have it! We all know the right tools are essential to any undertaking. Composed in just the right manner, a little black dress can take you anywhere. Nothing to distract the eye from the body, in pursuit of your true art lover. And next to you, honey, the tourists will look like huge colorfields. The latest lipstick is Venus, the latest shade for nails is Mars. Perfect for museum day!

II. BALANCE

A woman must continually watch herself. —John Berger

In line, position yourself near the possible object of your desire. Pay with plastic, sign with a flourish. Think of your life as one well-wrought performance piece, and be sure to get the little pin; position it above your breast, on your best side. Always think ahead! You’ll thank me later—a fabulous conversation piece, that pin, later at the café. Remember, your entry into his frame must be oblique, cause tension. Move to the corner of his eye, but don’t linger, if he is to engage you in what we will call the gaze.

III. RHYTHM

I paint with my prick. —Auguste Renoir

What do you desire in a man? Money, Looks or (heaven forbid) Personality? Determine your sequence in this manner. For instance, the Renaissance is all good and fine, but resist the tempting male nude. We all know the perfect man is a statue. But what straight man can truly appreciate this? And stay away from canvases of war. Narrative is the death of art; it just goes on and on, and you, my dear, are not even in that story. Don’t get me started.

IV. DOMINANCE

Here, nothing but a great thing can happen. The tall woman becomes taller. —Louis Aragon

As you move through the pure white halls, think: Sargent, Klimt. Thin fingers, thin forms. Yes. Judith looks as if she’s dreaming up some plot, avoiding the painter’s eye. Follow her gaze. At its end you’ll inevitably find a man. But beware, if his eyes are big as paintpots, he’ll cling. Brushwork, gold foil is all he wants. Now. This is the moment when life becomes art. Circle the room slowly, mixing your blackness into his linen (no polyester, of course). If he moves after you, he’s fascinated. Follows to Picasso? He might be yours. (Make sure to use protection.)

V. CONTRAST

The less you resemble us, the more you are sure to charm. —John Jacques Rousseau

Position yourself, waiflike, in front of a Rothko. Watch yourself being watched. But for God’s sake, choose the one that goes with your skin! Yellows wash you out. Green? Too creepy. Red? Yes, a dark, sensual crimson. You, diagonal, just outside the frame. Resist time’s constant passing (a nip here, a tuck there) with the eye’s endless desire. That’s what art is all about, of course. You can do it, girls. You are the site where the eye will stop. Be the object and the frame. The looking, and the looking away. Now let’s go. We haven’t got all day!

SHANNON BORG