As Well As Visiting Brice Marden's Virgin Studio

Of a Parking Lot Minus Vehicles

The cat is in the kitchen nudging the spoon
in his bowl to reach that last morsel beneath

His moist black nose sparkles
the way fresh tar does

I hear him still pushing the metal spoon
and now the non-sequiturs:

Filled cracks in an empty parking lot
A jumbled web of shining tar

And of visiting Brice Marden’s virgin studio
before the floor trembled in fear of paint







Written oh so many years ago, after visiting Marden in his then pristine, new studio, before he had done a lick of work.

It was a day after visiting Frank Stella's firehouse studio where he showed off his little model of cigar smoke inspired sculpture. Stella's Blimpie lunch had just been delivered as I was leaving.

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