saunter through the Arkansas Arts Center’s
galleries. We reach Pablo’s surreal “Still
Life with Red Bull’s Head.” Black magic marker
in hand, he steps over the knee-high rail,
studies the bull’s crooked eyes, one Cyclops-
centered, one near its left ear. The legend
glares, darkening each night-fading iris.
A female guard tackles the Spaniard, sends
him to the floor. “You crazy old fart!” she
screams. “You’re destroying art!” “He’s enhancing
his work,” I retort. “It’s Picasso. See.”
She smiles in surprise. They begin dancing.
Fondling her blue blazer, the master leers:
“Ever made love with an old man, my dear?”
Roger Armbrust
June 7, 2007
