Dressing Up the Muses
I Googled Arecibo and checked out where Maria had promised to take me. Arecibo is a coastal town about an hour west of San Juan. It boasts the world’s largest radio telescope. That might be interesting, but not sure I want to stand around a huge metal disk when lightening is popping and sparking. (So far, the hurricane warnings are all for Bermuda.) We’ve postponed that field trip.
Anyway, I think the low-pressure area is right over my apartment. I’ve got to get some fresh air, so I’m going to walk back over to the Performing Arts Center, about four blocks away. I’ve got decent crutches and it’s cooled off some. I want to look at Annex Burgos’ nine musas again, see if their wild eyes hold a secret for me. (If you’ve not met these women yourself, check out my earlier post, Island Muses.)
Okay, I’ve had a wild thought, or maybe an inspiration. After communing a while with the naked ladies of the plaza, la Musas, I figured out what was missing from the installation: greenery, flowers, bugs and birds. I mean, come on, these statues have got to be erupting into life.
I’m no artist, but I get that if you are a muse of the arts, sensual and creative, a representative of island femininity and vibrancy, you can’t just stand there stone cold dumb.
So I’m getting in touch with the artist to ask whether she would allow me to green up her ladies — with living things. I’m thinking ivy-laced skirt trimmings, cobweb veils with live spiders, wasp-nest shoulder pads, and briny seashell necklaces. To some, all this could seem a prank. I won’t do it without the Burgos’ okay, of course. And maybe I’ll need an official license as a performance artist or something. Why? If I’m going to make this island my home I’d better be willing to make a strong personal statement. Why not debut as an avant-garde eco-artist?
Funny what you think of doing, when you have absolutely nothing better to do.