Sometimes the other must speak, the citizen scolding the police officer, the student instructing the teacher on how to use a computer, the model setting out the guidelines for the artist’s rendering. Sometimes it’s easier to communicate with the unwanted, by listing the no’s of it, by talking about the surroundings to get to the subject, the real Heart of the matter. Sometimes a poet like Analicia Sotelo, in her poem “The Model Writes to the Painter,” comes along and captures this crevice of communication with such equal mix of force and finesse.
Not with knives. Not a vision. Not the body a scaffold wherein we reclaim ourselves.Not open. Not this morning we arrive together with the birds. Not the birds.