Another Nun Story: The PG Edition

I got up this morning and decided that I would lounge around the house in my robe. Robe lounging, I hear, is Hugh Hefner's favorite pastime. Yes, Hugh and I have a lot in common: we share the same birthday, we keep company with naked ladies( with one slight variation: I don't keep company with them for too long; I eat them), and we both have expressed a desire to be buried in our robes.

Once again, I am dilly dallying. I need to finish an art review. Yet, my brain is curled up like a rolly polly. It won't put out. Poor brain. Unfortunately, Brain is behaving like a bored housewife, who asks for the credit card before she even considers touching her husband. I want results. Yet, my butt cannot extricate itself from the upholstered couch.

You see, this review is for a friend of mine who happens to be a damn good artist. Since she is a damn good artist and a damn good friend this review better turn out damn good. She has exhibited locally, but I was sort of hoping she would have a chance to display her work at some swanky gallery like the Gagosian. Although the curators at these galleries are pretentious toad stools, who spend hours pontificating about which black turtle neck to wear with the $250 dollar Diesel jeans, they've got a lot of leverage when it comes to who will succeed in the art world and who will perish. By perish I mean: who will be strapped to a Malibu cliff as starving sea gulls, vultures, and the occasional stray actor peck away at their liver.

So I'm doing my research. Research consists of watching old PBS tapes of Sister Wendy Beckett discussing inarguably the world's greatest works of art from inarguably the world's greatest museums.

I love that woman! There's nothing like watching a demure old dame (cough), I mean nun, standing before an indelicately titled piece like "The Rape of the Sabine Women" and firing off such remarks as: "Look at how these voluptuous bodies seem to float and undulate slowly, sensually. Now, look over here. See how the artist contrasts the gentle feminine force with the aggressive, cold masculine ego."

Sister Wendy you are an inspiration.







Now, I gotta go finish that article.