 |
The Hiss Quarterly Vol. 5 ~ Issue 3 Ekphrasmagoria |
|
|
Door to deKooning I wonder what the day was like, June 25, 1929, When you signed your name large in pencil on the parlor wall before covering it with garish red paper, peppered with green fronds, then walked back to the Dutch Seaman’s home, now the CVS, stopping for bread and beer. Was there a breeze from the Hudson like there is today? Upstairs, I set out to strip the walls of their Victorian manners. You did the same, Willem, when you dropped the Dutch “De” from your name and set a housepainter’s brush to canvas. Red residue smeared into the unpainted, virginal walls, they absorbed the rouge as I touched every inch of the parget, painting with my hands, moving the scaffold, making my way ‘round the floor (manifest destiny?) towards your signature, revealed like a dream pressed hard in my palm. Willem, you taught me everything and then you reached across the great divide, and gave more still. Your paint so powerful, so wet, it burst through the frame water set free, burst forth like the century. A floor above my desk, inspiration resides in blind touch, our repertoire of sketches, re-visualizations, and instinct set on its curly course of surprise. Like you, I like messy, drippy words, painted realities like the crux of a poem: this doorway, that yellow sun, the muddy river. © Lynne Shapiro |
