For Jan

My friend Jan has been down on her back, twelve days in all. You gotta pity a woman when her only feasible entertainment consists of taking pictures of her own knees and feet. Might as well. With that much time on one's hand while down on one's back, not to mention whose back we're talking about here, I fear for those who find themselves in close proximity, and pray that peace be with them. May the lady of the house not act like she is drinking gasoline and spitting fire, like this woman seems to being doing:

Willem de Kooning, Woman I

As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that my pal Jan doesn't drink gasoline. She seems to prefer rum or Bailey's Irish Cream. Can you spit fire by drinking rum? 

I just don't believe someone with pretty legs like these, and who wears socks like these, would drink gasoline (or rum for that matter) and spit fire. But I'm pretty sure that someone with pretty legs like them, and who wears lovely socks like them, not only would, but also deserve, to have some shoes like these:

A couple of notes: Willem de Kooning is an artist I like. There's a large hard-backed poster of that very image can be seen in the hall way of the art department where I teach. Hence the association. 

The shoes are the handiworks of Andy Warhol, the enfant terrible, or darling, of the art world, depending on your taste. But I have a tender spot in my heart for Andy. I can't help it. After all the guy is said to have lived and prayed with his mother often, went to mass almost daily, served the poor with monks at a soup kitchen, and left to be found a crucifix and rosary at bedside after death. I came across and bought a little book called Ho Ho Ho by him in a used book store last week. All Christmas drawings, utterly childlike and beguiling. Among them one showing two angels making acquaintance of each other, one rather bashful looking. On opposite leaf a quote of Warhol: "And they get to know you better, and they start to like you." That's the one I wanted to put up here to cheer the spirit of my pal Jan, but alas, the scanner does not work with my Mac, like, a lot of stuff don't work with Macs. Steve, you could have stuck around to get around fixing that. 

Sleep, as comfortably as you can manage, Jan. And I'll see your socks tomorrow.