That generation's dream, aviled In the mud, in Monday's dirty light - Wallace Stevens, The Man with the Blue Guitar 1936 Here is the rise, the fall, the labor, the leisure. The stage for all this is the cramped rectangle whose perimeter keeps us from getting carried away. Our protagonist is specific, although his identity is open to speculation. In some cases he's aging and alive and in others young and dead, a porcelain tchotchke on a pedestal. He is a man uncomfortably suspended in an antagonistic relationship between his hungry body and his socialized personality, his nightly freedom and daily ennui. We encounter him in a dirty, mundane, quotidian light. Much like our protagonist's lonesome conflict, the task of pushing paint around in the studio is a hermitic activity rife with self-scrutiny and painterly indulgences. The latter, in all their periodized effete glory, perform eloquent descriptions of our affected protagonist. The resulting picture...