"Ugly Art", He Said
Brian wondered how I could spend
so much time making ugly art when there
is so much beauty in the world to paint
Why not paint the lake in the morning?
Roses and marigolds in a vase?
Or the way sunlight makes a halo out
of hair if you stand in just the right
spot in the late afternoon?
Brian was an old man
I was a kid
fresh out of art school
Years passed
And then Brian became an older man
and didn't sleep anymore
After his wife Lilian passed away
she the one whose hair looked like
a halo in the late afternoon
Brian set up a studio in his basement
A horizontal sheet of plywood
covered his pool table
A slab of Sumi ink, brushes, paper
He promised to show me what
he'd been doing down there alone
and I promised to go look
He said I'm sorry for what I said
about you wasting time making
ugly
art
It isn't ugly at all once you look
at it instead of hair glowing in
the late afternoon light
"It is its own kind of beauty"

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