Let’s begin here with the use of color.
I find the painting to be overtly sexual, I think
it was intentional, I mean the artist
must have realized how erotic paint
can be, the opposite of undressing, you
know, what I’d give to be 10 years younger

because everyone wants to fuck someone younger
or someone whose skin is a different color
than yours. Don’t tell me that you
don’t have these fantasies. The problem is that I think
too much. I mean, what if I could paint
like that, you know, I’d be a fucking artist

and I’ve always wanted to fuck an artist
or perhaps a sculptor, but I’m not getting any younger.
What artist would want to paint
me naked? Who wants to see that? Only a color-
blind artist maybe, would get me, I think:
you know, the whole essence of me, you

know. Now I know what you’re
all thinking. I couldn’t get an artist
to fuck me. Well, you know what I think?
Fuck you! I was hot to trot when I was younger,
you know, like if my sex were a color,
it would be like Jackson fucking Pollock with paint

all over the place. This one time I bought these body paints,
but it wasn’t the same, you
know. Like it was too forced, so we tried watercolor,
but then we felt more like kids than artists,
you know. It was better when we were younger,
less inhibition, less shit to think

about. That’s why I come here, to stop thinking
about myself. I think about the way paint
changes everything. The way it hides things, it makes me younger,
I think. To come here, sort of like Dorian Gray, you
know, he had that artist
paint him, but you saw his true colors

shining through, eventually, because the color of thoughts
is that thing that artists like to paint
so you can see yourself younger, you know.