Mary Hatch

 
 

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Herself, Herself..., 19” x 24”, (image(13” x 17.75”) archival inkjet, Edition 100, $200 

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Inspired by an Elizabeth Kerlikowske poem

 
 

 

Champagne Brunch

Small women hide under her skirt and when she walks in through the open door, they make their tiny entrances, a brief floor show headed toward the open bar. What a great trick, if it’s not your skirt.

Corners are choked with wallflowers worse off than her. She is invisible without make-up which makes loading a tiny plate easy. She finds a corner; she loves corners, so safe. Almost every corner dwarfs her.

A server passes her champagne. Five minutes later, an older woman fills the glass. It is like the feast Baucis and Philemon gave the gods, the delights just keep coming. After an hour she cannot remember the host.

Her whole recent life has been lived in this dark chair in a library corner. No one has spoken with her. This is the best kind of party. She stands to seek out coffee and perhaps one familiar face when suddenly she becomes visible. “Where have you been?” they say and all look. Now the party for her is over.