Spitting Image 

Almost no writers I know ever copies, word for word, page by page, books written by authors they admire. But painters are different. They openly imitate. It’s not uncommon to see artists parked in fine art museums with easels and earnestness, making their version of the real thing. In the Prado in Madrid I came upon this painter studiously replicating the Velasquez masterpiece on display. The painter entered the original’s world, revealing every thread and color of the Infanta Margarita Teresa. All that was left were finishing touches.

I’m a sucker for dresses, and after much looking, the fair woman’s attire became a landscape, a wide stretch of fabric, creating a fence. What materials propped its bulbous shape? The skirt’s birth extended formidable boundaries around her bodice, inhibiting physical intimacy and the ability to move with ease. Impenetrable and stuck.

Madrid, Spain