A Watched Pen Watches Itself Write

 

Watched And Watching

I’m being watched by many
and I can’t move or watch them in return
because for most of an hour
I’m their model: a Star of Seattle.
I keep my eyes on the one chair
that no one sits in, high in the corner.
As my rods and cones give out
parts of the chair disappear
its horizontals and verticals fade
and its shadows become more real than it.
While I’m still, the others are in constant
movement; looking at me,
then at their drawings, over and over
with almost birdlike motions.
Others drift in and out of my peripheral
vision in odd displacements of color
becoming purple or blue themselves
though in truth they are mostly black.
One guy cycles through the red orange range
as he walks across the room crowded by easels.
My eyes water, dried out by my need
to keep them focused on that unused chair
and I find that my balance is not so stable
as I try to remain unmoving.
By the time my session is done,
my legs are trembling with fatigue.
I’m handed a drawing of myself done in pastels
for my efforts and the next model
in red is ready to take the stand.

---Purple Mark 120311b

 

Carla's Prompt: To watch or being watched