#65. A GERMANIC VISITOR

 

#65. A GERMANIC VISITOR 

He stands alone, tall, young, trendy brown beard stubble. Next to him on an easel is a small oil painting. I watch for 20 minutes. No one stops, looks, or speaks to him. Maybe it’s the subject matter. A pink background with the word SORRY at the top. At the bottom of the painting a flaccid penis droops over a scrotum. Meaning? Talk amongst yourselves.

We chat. He’s from Berlin, in New York for a month. A friend told him “If you’re an artist, you must go to Washington Square.” So, he has. And he talks a blue streak in barely accented English. 

             “As a white male I feel the need to                         address the issues of the day, like toxic                 masculinity…” and on he drones in artspeak.

            "Well, good luck buddy. You should come back on a Sunday when there are                  more people."