Alice Neel Said I Reminded Her of a Cat Before they met me people (might) have, thanks to my nickname, leapt to the seemingly logical assumption that since my artwork was wonderful, I was worthy to be a celebrated Woman Artist. Female artists such as Sandy Kinnee, deserve to be admired. I happened to have timed my entrance into the Art World better than M. E. O’Hare, who was a kick ass painter as well as being my aunt. When she was starting out in the 1940s, being a Woman Artist in a tiny gallery world designed for and run primarily by males, was not her choice. She chose the route of taking commissions and painting portraits. Her gender was obscured by her use of her initials. There were many women artists, few were taken seriously, despite the quality of their work. By the time I leapt into the first little puddle in the art world, there was an awareness that all along women had been making art and it was damn well time they be taken seriously. Women artists w...

  Her Immortal Housefly This is not the fly Daddy swatted Yet could neither squash Nor frighten It was an immortal pest Born from the pencil lead Of a five-year-old I had heard the fly story and how Mary was pegged: Artist For this little stunt That first small masterpiece  Though immortalized  Faded or was erased Perhaps it was wallpapered Over or covered by many layers  of flat interior paint That little housefly portrait Was her small start of limning The world around her She went on to depict countless Human creatures often  Seated in chairs The tale of the bug which  Would not flee or die Became legend It was an often repeated story With no documentation No evidence Mary, at age eighty-three, Drew another immortal  Musca domestica just for me Yes, she could still draw a fly