Portait Of My Self

Last week I sat down to paint a self-portrait. Disaster.
“Maybe I should look into a mirror”, I thought, Even worse! Immediately I started making faces at this thing I am dragging from one doctor’s office to the next. I realized my self was missing!

Finally I located it again. My self was sitting in the sixteenth century playing the Ch’in.
The Ch’in is an ancient instrument, capable of harmonizing with the breeze in the pine tree.
It can play the characteristic melody of noble rocks and the transcendent tune of the void.

I’ve been thinking of ordering my self back (sic) to the twenty-first century; but what do we have to offer?
Global warming and…and…well, you know what I mean.

And where would you get a thirteen year old girl—she smells so nice—to make tea for you?