How to Invent a Life
First, prep your canvas
for the illusion you’re bringing.
Lots of gesso. Yes. No. Don’t stop.
Cover the old crude sketch
You can’t erase.
More gesso, more. White it out.
You’ve got it! You’re a natural.
This should be simple.
Grab a tube of cerulean, or Prussian blue,
whichever you prefer.
Blend them together if you want, but not too much.
You want to leave patches detectable.
Now slather them all over your canvas.
Build a new background for your revision.
Don’t be careful, don’t be shy … good, good.
I told you it was simple.
Didn’t say it would be easy, though.
Now mix pinks, blues, ochres for her face.
Mauves and purples too if you wish.
A touch of plum for shadows. Take the risk.
Don’t fret, it will be fine. You’ll see.
You want to make her shudder like a ghost,
like a woman delivered from the North Atlantic,
like Mary when she watched Jesus die.
Great! That’s the way.
Don’t replicate what you see;
Reveal how you feel.
Her hair must be young and soft, but not new.
From the past, sometime.
Say, the 1990s.
Her eyes must be strong like the ’40s,
Wild like the ’60s.
Exploring eyes.
Her nose, let’s see …
Not large, not delicate.
Just enough to pull her face together.
Be sure to paint an easy smile. Your audience will like that.
Happy faces make them happy.
But don’t overdo it:
Leave a smidge of desperation around her mouth.
Full lips. Everyone likes full lips. Her mouth can taste what’s new.
Yes, that’s it!
A simple chain around her neck,
A stone the same color as her eyes. Green, I think.
Maybe a small relic from the past
she can’t fully forget.
Her open blouse teasing … not slutty, not prude.
There!
Something for everyone. Everything for someone.
Leave nothing for no one.
Are you finished yet?