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| Howard Somerville Self Portrait in the Studio ca. 1910 oil on canvas Atkinson Art Gallery, Southport, Merseyside |
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| Malcolm Drummond 19 Fitzroy Street (Walter Sickert's Studio) ca. 1912-14 oil on canvas Laing Art Gallery, Newcastle-upon-Tyne |
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| Brian Hatton At the Académie Julian, Paris 1912 oil on board Hereford Museum and Art Gallery |
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| Mark Gertler Still Life with Self Portrait 1918 oil on canvas Leeds Art Gallery, Yorkshire |
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| Harold Gresley The Convex Mirror 1945 oil on canvas Derby Museum and Art Gallery |
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| John Lavery Daylight Raid from my Studio Window, 7 July 1917 1917 oil on canvas Ulster Museum, Belfast |
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| Christopher Nevinson A Studio in Montparnasse ca. 1926 oil on canvas Tate Gallery |
Conversion Comedy
"I thought of you as a butterfly tonight," getting to eschatology from a sketchpad, your mom's.
And though you write sermons nice and linear you also digress and about-face.
The jeroboam trees are dark tonight.
Darker in the outage than the stars let the sky be.
Partyers all.
The abbot told you, "I do not have power, the archbishop does not have power, the pope does not have power. Only God has power."
Then it is not a kind of violence to put a photo of the Pope in a luscious hacienda, imperilled by a miniature pullbell.
Someone admired the hostess's oils. "Yes, it was a surprise when they hired me to teach but they said, 'We can teach an artist to teach but we can't teach a teacher to be an artist.'" "How true," the guests murmured.
This was not your mother though artists all say it "comes from somewhere else."
When another guest compared the Catholic to the Episcopal service she said, "I think not."
In a desert once I almost fell off a cliff.
To calm me down a friend told a joke: "Descartes was sitting on a plane. The stewardess said, 'Coffee or tea?' 'I think not,' Descartes said, and vanished."
It took a moment to sink in because I thought he said "The cart" as in "beverage cart."
Confusion is the only way to get to eschatology from a sketchpad.
I'm trying to redeem that abbot.
Drawing in the outage.
Once you suggest the origins of music lay in the necessity of drowning out the cries of sacrificial victims, I start listening for them – the cries – under my own singing.
Scholars resurrect books all the time just by quoting them.
When Roman gods popped out of the soil, the Christians looked around wildly.
Sculpt the mouth around "sculpture," ulpt.
They reburied them hurriedly, and the earth gulped.
The statue of the Commendatore went down with Don Giovanni. Which shall I believe, the unrepentence of the sinkholed Don?
Or the statue that converts Leontes by resurrecting his all-forgiving wife?
Hermione who's peerless has a likeness; he who won't about-face is not "mocked by art" but brought posthaste to hell, his "shapely seat and heart" . . .
The moon slips out like a foreign coin from denim: a drachma, an as.
Can we redeem it?
Cities are places are conversion, you said. But I am citiless.
"She ascended to the thrown," you wrote by mistake, of Elizabeth.
– Ange Mlinko (2008)
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| David Macbeth Sutherland The Painting Student 1920 oil on canvas Aberdeen Art Gallery, Scotland |
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| Raoul Dufy The Painter's Studio ca. 1925 oil on canvas Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge |
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| Ivon Hitchens Henry Moore at Work in his Parkhill Studio C 1929 oil on canvas Leeds Art Gallery, Yorkshire |
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| Winston Churchill Studio Still Life ca. 1930 oil on canvas National Trust, Chartwell, Kent |
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| David Bomberg Self Portrait with Palette 1931 oil on canvas Ulster Museums, Belfast |
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| Charles March Gere Self Portrait 1939 oil on canvas The Wilson, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire |
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| Leonard John Fuller Studio Haphazard ca. 1943 oil on canvas Newport Museum and Art Gallery, Wales |
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| Wilhelmina Barns-Graham Studio Interior (Red Stool) 1945 oil on canvas Wilhelmina Barns-Graham Trust, Edinburgh |