Instructions to the Artist

Nothing formal, please. We

do not tend towards

convention

or stately, funereal

"elegance". See us

as we see ourselves.

Each of us

has our dreams sewn into

our costumes. It may appear

disjointed, a motley collection

of deviants and performers,

But paint us this way

just the same.

It will all come together

in the end.

The landscape, the background

should be a park at twilight,

gentle trees catching the moon

in their branches. There are

blossoms, waxing

in fullness of beauty.

Not too much night,

nor so much daylight

that one cannot see

curious shadows creep

and flutter.

To my right

are the towheaded warrior

and his equally fiery-tressed lady.

Make the simple grace

of their forest-hued tunics

stand out. Capture their mutual enchantment

with one another on the canvas.

As for the archaeologist,

paint her in shades of adventure.

The glint of far-off light

in her eyes, the cracked leather

of her bullwhip—all must be present.

All accounted for.

Give the detective and her associate

mysterious expressions. Telling nothing,

hinting at everything,

a glimmer of fierce love

in their eyes

as they look at each other.

Trace her litheness with your brush.

The young man to the far left,

clad in armor, haunted visage—

make the light gleam and dance

across the helm that he cradles

in his arm. Instill some hope

into his troubled eyes.

And the other youth—

the tall, broad one, hidden in shadow—

though only his face can be seen

beneath that heavy hood,

illustrate his honesty, his keen intelligence

with your artistry.

That man in the background,

the one with dark, curling hair

really shouldn't be there. But never mind that.

Dabble in magic and trickery

when painting him,

with just a hint of intrigue.

Now for the slender girl

near center, and her gaunt, bemasked companion. With

your most subtle of colors,

cloak him in hushed velvet midnight;

garb her in a gown,

one of roses and lilies composed of moonlight.

For myself,

I do not ask much. Merely make

the salt breezes of a distant sea

ruffle my skirts

and the somewhat bedraggled feathers

in my hat. Put the reckless ecstasy

and the thrill of the sailor's life

in my expression.

Thus are we to be depicted,

we fools and dreamers, poets

and madmen. Recreate our

simple eloquence with your oils,

and you will have served us

admirably.