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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Artist: The Later Years by Edmund Siejka (companion piece to The Artist published March 28, 2013) He hadn’t sold anything In a long time Arms crossed He scrutinized the paintings Displayed in the Most modern of modern Chelsea galleries. Behind him A small group of artists Discussed art Glasses of wine held subtly in their animated hands He nodded Only one in the group Nodded back. Something bothered him Pressing down on his shoulders It was then he left As quietly as he came. Walking downtown Collar up The wind whipped through his jacket At 8th Avenue Along a row Of cheap buildings Off 14th Street He found a coffee shop Not wanting coffee he walked in anyway Hoping that since he didn’t know anyone He would be in a public place But would have all the privacy he needed. Sitting at the counter He felt someone touching his shoulder He turned To face a Kid In his early twenties Tall Brown hair Even features Good bone structure Curious eyes Strong hands Paint splattered jeans. Are you an artist? The Kid asked He was tempted to tell the Kid to go out and play in traffic But the honesty in the voice Was convincing “I thought so” the Kid said The Times did a retro on artists of the 70’s” The Kid looked closer “Except for the white hair you haven’t changed that much In my art class they still mention you”. There was something bold Yet real about the Kid Grabbing a corner booth They discussed art He giving pointers About the New York art scene. Returning home The Artist passed under the Dome of St. George Strong and defiant in the afternoon sun Taking a deep breathe He went upstairs to his studio slash apartment There was an empty canvas Waiting A north light Beckoned Holding brushes in his hand He was an artist once again.
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