A pitfall that I am anxious to avoid was summed up by the poet
Dylan Thomas when he wrote: Somebody’s
boring me. I think it’s me.
My concern is not so much boring myself but boring those who
view my work. After all, the nude is the nude is the nude, and there’s limit to
the ways my models can stand, sit, recline or whatever.
A number of my models are accomplished poets and this evening
some will be on stage for my friend Shawna’s poetry extravaganza, Lyrics under the Stars. It was from one
of Shawna’s shows a couple of years ago that I take my title. It is Karmarsha’s
brilliant poem that gives advice to young ladies and cautions young men. From that you might guess
that this evening’s performances will be anything but boring.
If you think that I’m in danger of jumping out of the frying
pan and into the fire, I’ll stop right there. But for once I’ll skip painting
and illustrate this page with a photograph I took of the frying pan that cooked
my daughter’s breakfast omelet a couple of mornings ago.
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