Archive 09/05/08 - (2)

   

Art Fair

              

Everywhere, in downtown Clayton,

This deliciously chilly September Friday twilight,

Revelry, with a quickened pitch, abounds.

 

It's the kickoff of the annual St. Louis Art Fair,

And spirits are giddy, dizzy.

People are flooding in, to stroll the streets,

 

Eager to sample the tented booths' artifacts

And, more important, to showcase themselves,

Shake hands and hug others enacting the same ritual.

 

Why, you might ask, am I in this restaurant, tonight,

Writing, diligently, for my psyche's keep,

When I, too, could be out, playing critic-at-large,

 

Inflating my ego, by denigrating or trivializing others,

Who spend their inspired hours

Painting, welding, weaving, etching, turning, blowing,

 

Bringing, from conception, to two- and three-dimensionality,

Through imaginative legerdemain,

Objects, images, shapes of amazingly intricate beauty?

 

To answer your unasked question,

Let me clarify one significant facet of my artistic ethos,

My cardinal precept, principle, you might say:

 

Adamantly, scrupulously, I refuse to judge others,

Since, more than most, I know, trench-deep,

The rigors and tribulations of disappointment,

 

When you bust butt, to put together a reading

And no one shows up or, if so,

Listens to your poems, buys your autographed books.

 

Believe me, I'm inured to rejection, failure,

That dismal feeling of articulating impassioned poetry,

To an audience of three stragglers there only for the coffee,

 

Just as, this evening, on the crowded streets of Clayton,

Thousands and thousands of browsers,

Out to breathe in a spell of the cool, romantic air,

 

Will gawk and ogle and stare and gaze and deliberate,

Before trudging ahead to the next booth,

To repeat another routine refusal

 

To make a genuine commitment, in support of art,

With a personal check or a signed credit-card receipt.

How well I know this damnable drill.

 

Nonetheless, resolutely, I maintain my battered faith —

A believer in the sanctity of creativity's healing grace,

Its ability to fortify our humanity against emptiness.

 

 

 

09/05/08 - (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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