Mimesis Upended: A Reluctant Nod to Mr. Wilde
How did she see peaches,
never seeing a Cezanne?
This mother of my mother
who passed to me, across a generation,
her own deep-burning need for Beauty.
Or so I’m told.
“You remind me of your grandma,”
my mother used to chide as she coaxed me
from pages abloom with Renoirs and Monets.
“Only she loved honeysuckle and Indian paintbrush.”
I don’t remember.
I knew her only when she was old
and her mind was gone
and she waltzed with strangers in her ruby robe
and sang, “Have you seen my new shoes?”
How did she see flowers,
knowing no O’Keefe to lead her
deep into the sultry depths of poppies?
This daughter of desert basin who journeyed once
as far as Blue Bench–one day’s ride.
“You’ve got your grandma’s eyes,” great-aunts
peer out through watery lenses and decide.
But I know better.
She saw unaided (unencumbered)
She saw direct, all by herself.
I can’t.
How would I see orange without Albers,
thick-crusted bread without Vermeer,
eyes without Eakins, light without Turner,
my own still bath-wet form reflected
without hosts from Phidias forward?
Proud fashioners of Art (of life?)
These benefactor-thieves,
bestowing their vision while robbing my own,
granting me what grandma never had–
the prejudice of education.
Sharlee is an assistant editor for Segullah. She has an MA in humanities from BYU, where she taught before giving up academia for the writing life. She has published essays, short stories, articles, and poetry. She has also published a novel and several picture books for children. Her latest picture book, Just What Mama Needs, will be released this spring by Harcourt. Sharlee lives in Pleasant Grove, Utah, with her husband, their five children, her computer, and assorted pets.
“Mimesis Upended: A Reluctant Nod to Mr. Wilde” was originally published in BYU Studies, volume 34, no. 4, 1994-95
