The Blank Canvas
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Pablo Picasso (1881 - 1973)
Picasso goes into a waterfront bar in the old port of Golfe Juan just west of Antibes.
P: Morning, Jean.
J: Morning, Pablo. You're in early. Anything wrong?
P: On the contrary, I'm celebrating.
J: What's the occasion?
P: I'm 80 today.
J: Congratulations! A glass of champagne, don't you think?
P: Go on, then.
J: Doing anything nice? With the lovely Jacqueline, I imagine.
P: Maybe later. She's gone swimming. As usual.
J: Hmm, what do you mean?
P: I worry about the way she looks at the handsome young beasts down there. All tanned muscle and oiled limbs.
J: Well, Pablo my friend, you married her. How does the saying go? Make your bed and ...
P: I suppose you're right.
J: Yes, I am. So, what will you do with your day?
P: I'm giving an interview this afternoon to one of those fancy Parisian art journals. They want me to pick out and discuss three or four of my favourite paintings as a kind of retrospective. In fact, it's one of the reasons I'm here. I'd appreciate your advice.
J: I'm honoured, Pablo.
Picasso takes out a folder from a large canvas bag and places it on the bar. He opens it to reveal prints of his work.
P: Right, let's have a go. No particular order.
J: What's that?
P: It's a still life.
J: Of what, for heaven's sake? That could easily drive you to drink. What about a nice daiquiri right now?
P: The champagne's fine, thanks. Come on, Jean, help me out. Try this one. What do you see?
J: I see three blokes, the odd moustache, teeth, masks, musical notes, a violin bow, maybe a keyboard. It's a bit weird, Pablo.
P: Next. Now what do you think?
J: Well, it's a woman. But what's that mess on her face?
P: She's crying.
J: Crying? It looks like she's been in a terrible road accident.
P Jean, you are so ... literal.
J: I know what I like. Pablo, are these really the best you can do?
P: What about this then?
J: That's better. I see a naked woman, sitting, facing away, head resting on her knees. Lovely back. Why is her skin blue?
P: If you like my nudes, try this one.
J: Aha! I know ... it's that brothel. I thought we were going to keep that quiet. I don't remember them having such odd faces.
P: Last one.
J: It's you! Good grief, you look young. But a very good likeness - you've worn well. Yes, I like that.
P: I give up.

Cheat if you must ;-)
© Charlie Lewis 2021