By Mickey Davis
I have been in a very dark mood, so I painted a bouquet of dead flowers. So peaceful, so stiff, so still. Reflects my outlook perfectly in this time of pandemic.
Actually, I am often in a dark mood, a very dark place: I guess I like dead things. People are plant food on two legs, walking through 80 or so years of light and top-of-the-food chain consumption before becoming dark and decaying in the ground and giving back all the nutrients they once wrested from the earth. It's a brief moment of sunshine surrounded by an eternity of darkness and stillness on either side. How did Willy the Shake put it - life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.
So here's to dead flowers! They get the last laugh - they will no longer decay, are impervious to disease, feel no pain, and will never ask for water or nutrients. And they will remain that way forever, as long as the cleaning lady doesn't throw them out.
I am a painter in the realist tradition who is based in New York City on the Upper West Side. During the warm weather I like to paint in Central Park, and during the winter I do still life and work from photographs. I do photo retouching for a fashion brand to earn a living, or when things get really desperate, I rob a bank. Or beg on the street corner.
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