Slightly referencing King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid this Indian Princess sits in her crypt with a fresco of rosebud wallpaper. The vegetables are the King; shame, but I wanted to use a still life I did for O’Level Art in 1973. We didn’t do life drawings and a vegetable is a good substitute in a convent. Next will be her head dress, heavily influenced by a tattoo I saw on a male model in a life class; not a vegetable in sight
St Peter is entering his first exhibition next month; big up to St Pete. Below is the poem I wrote a while back that inspired the painting.
St Peter Chanel of the Staffroom
You are a gent and a scholar, Saint Peter
You stand by my shoulder and beam.
Beauty blue, erect and perfect.
The personification of clean.
Saint Pure, Saint Perfect, Saint Virtue,
You gaze past the widening door
And welcome the rebel, the downtrodden,
The victim, the bully, the caught.
Saint Peter, you converted the heathen
There is foreign sand under your toes.
Caught in the hem of your garment,
Each grain holds the truth that you know.
Convert me to convent life, Peter
I am a damned, sinful protestant girl.
Every prayer that you offer is a diamond
Every tear shed for me is a pearl
Will all men be like you Saint Peter?
Reposed in the company of girls?
Do you favour the catholic amongst us?
Or the wayward, heretical souls?
Can you make a space in your beach hut?
For a damned, sinful protestant girl?
I will fight off the heathen axe man
That threatens your beautiful skull
In the heat of the sandy sunset
I will come to you, Peter, and say
I am yours forever please save me
In your Catholic no nonsense way
Saint Peter Chanel of the Staffroom
Pin up boy of the collar and veil
Your perfection is bright and entralling
Beside you I am protestant pale
I would die for you, Saint Peter
But I know you would not approve
So I will keep this image forever
Erect perfect beauty all blue
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