#593 Le Paysage de Baucis

I have discovered how to paint the emptiness between a hat 
& a man’s suit without suggesting ‘the invisible man.’ 
— René Magritte, letter to André Bosmans, 19 February 1966
Let's face it, the face isn't
there. Well, not completely.
The major aspects — eyes,
nose, lips — proportionate,
in place, posed & poised 
between a starched collar & 
a hat — no, not the usual 
bowler but a fedora this 
time around. Nothing there
to suggest the mythic con-
nection that the title implies
except perhaps disguise. Un-
less the emptiness of the suit
might be intended to conjure 
up the image of a landscape 
after a major flood has swept 
everything away. Which may
be a way to bring the myth be-
hind the title into the picture, 
though it won't be included in
this poem. Instead, a reference: 
Ovid, The Methamorphoses, Book
VIII, lines 611 through to 724.

#592 The Endless Chain

There is a serious motif to 
this piece — three men from
different eras on one horse
underlining the linear con-
tinuity of passing time & 
how similar things recur at 
intervals — but I find myself 
sidetracked thinking of the 
endless chain of variations 
that the passage of time has 
brought to that nursery rhyme 
with the opening line: Ride a 
cock-horse to Banbury Cross.  

#591 The Anniversary

Apple after apple has ruled 
this room & what's outside
it, but now, perhaps, some 
sort of coup d'état has taken 

place & that meteorite so 
often seen hovering above 
the sea has come ashore to 
usurp the — dare we call it 

that — throne. Now, with 
the curtain discretely moved 
aside, it is looking out at the 

plaza, no doubt hoping to 
see a crowd gathering there
to cheer its sudden ascension.

#590 Le Grand Air (2)

A fish emerges from the water as if to breathe.

There is a hot air balloon sailing overhead.

The fish sees the balloon, stretches out to try
& reach it.

The people in the balloon's basket do not see 
the fish or, if they do, they ignore it.

As the fish sinks back below the surface of the
water, it thinks: "If I was a bird I could fly up 
& over the balloon & crap on it from, as the say-
ing goes, a great height."

Such is life in the great outdoors.

#589 La Double Réalité

This was the first double of the body. 
From having been an assurance of immortality, 
it becomes the uncanny harbinger of death.
Sigmund Freud: The Uncanny







The horse's bell rings silently. Death
is approaching. The two women who
are the same woman meet it head-on, 
open-eyed, though both have diffe-
ring views of how it looks. Depending
on one's point of view, perspective is
disconcerting. So, too, is being pinned 
to the wall, incomplete, what's left dis-
played in complementary directions. 
Beauty, we are reminded, is not the only
thing found in the eye of the beholder.

#588 The Cut-Glass Bath

The flaw dis-
covered at the

dress rehearsal. 
"The elephant's 


too wide to fit 
into the glass." 

"Will this giraffe 
do instead?"

#587 The Thought Which Sees

From the outside we see
items from other works 
thast we have seen before —
a crescent moon, clouds, 
sea, the house from The Em-
pire of Light. We see & think
about them, a deliberate act,
not the unconscious saying
"Look! This is what you're
missing." There is the same
man twice over, one night,
the other day. Slightly diff-
erent size. Most comment-
aries say they are facing one
another. I do not see it. To
me they are both facing the 
same way. That's what I
think I see. No inner thought
sees / says otherwise. I bow
to Magritte, whose thoughts
make the invisible visible but
still open to interpretation

#586 Le Ciel Meurtrier

Birds sing serenades to a dy-
ing forest, the musical scores
etched on their bodies. Some-

where in there also is the sky, 
its exhaled breath helping to
petrify the trees beneath. The 

birds display no visible blood, 
unlike that painting with the 
same name, from the same year.

#585 Le Cri de Coeur

Is hard to tell if the man is
watching the sun set, or 
is staring at the sun. Un-
likely the former, even though
the beauty of the landscape
as a setting might well in-
duce a cry from the heart. In 
favor of the latter are the 
dire stories we hear from 
childhood on of the painful 
deprivation of sight when
one looks for too long into
the sun's face. But why in-
dulge in supposition with
an artist who often plots a
distance between title & the
ingredients of the painting?
Rather stand back & welcome
what comes to your mind;
which, for me, are lines from
Guillaume Apollinaire's "Le
pont Mirabeau." Et nos amours
     Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours après la peine.
                          & our loves
     Must I remember them
Joy always comes after pain.

#584 The Shadow & Its Shadow

Where does one start & the
other finish? & surely they're
mispositioned — she should
be behind him, the proverbial
power behind the throne, as it
were. Or should she? After all,
she was in front of him so often
as he painted her — at the piano,
smoking a cigarette, in the nude, as
she posed for him for more than forty
years. She thirteen, he fifteen when they
first met. Married nine years later after
they met again. Side by side this time, a mut-
ual shadow. Changing positions over the next
four decades. Until his death; & for her twenty
shadowless years, only shades, & the paintings
on the walls. Plus that unfinished one on an easel.






photo of René & Georgette Magritte by Paul Nougé. Brussels, 1932.

#583 The Intelligence

There is a scene in David Lynch's
Twin Peaks which replicates the
layout offered here. Not quite
the same — Lynch's characters 
seem to have more intelligence 
than these stereotypical burglars,
& the three-branched candelabra

that supports the women's heads
has been done away with & re-
placed by a minimal chorus line
of pink-clad busty Busby Berkeley
beauties. Add to that that the ex-
terior has been exorcised in the
TV shot. Is purely backstage, with

no window opening out onto an 
industrial landscape tinged in
pink, but it remains a Magritte
concept. & that is what the in-
telligence analysts seek to learn
from, the insights of the man
who brought the unreal to life.

#582 Image with a Green House 1944

In times of war, even
the mighty violincello
feels a need to hide.

Such a pity that they
didn't choose a more
subtle neighborhood

in which to conceal
themselves.

#581 The White Race 1937

No breasts, but two noses. We've
seen them before — or at least a
singular one. Then androgynous;
but with the accompaniments here
are much more feminine. It's the 
lips that give the separate pieces
gender, as they bridge the noses. 
Apart from those, one eye & one
ear. Not quite Lord Nelson, but
the ambition is there, & they're
gathered together on a navy blue
background. The whole kept out 
of the outside by a golden frame.

#580 Trois nus dans un intérieur

A girl's night in, or so
it seems. There's a movie
about that, but not about
life in a cubist setting. A
phrase from the movie —
"together we make up the 
perfect woman" — seems
at first look to have little 
relevance here, & yet the
setting has perfection in-
corporated in it. Light & 
shadow within the space.
A table on which cups are 
set. A bowl of fruit. Com-
fortable with their own &
the others' bodies. An an-
gularity to them that does
not seem to pierce the in-
timacy that fills the room. 

#579 The Castle of the Pyrenees, defaced

A painting in the Israel Museum in Jerusalem by the Belgian artist René Magritte
has been damaged by a 5-year-old boy wielding a pine cone.
CNN: 6.12.2026

Battlements on top, the rock beneath on which it's built, the ample space between the rock & the sea below —
should be enough. But in air is light as.

The rock, carrying its castle cargo, drifts eastward across the Mediterranean until it runs aground.
Because of its uniqueness, is placed in a space available in a museum in Jerusalem. Is held there,
exhibited, bereft of protective glass.

Years pass. Then one day a boy picks up a pine cone in the museum garden, wonders if the magical
assemblage inside that he & his grandmother have come to see will withstand something more than
a human viewing.

Or maybe thinks the painting needs a symbolic addition of the real to make it complete. The
pine cone he is still carrying, attached like a brooch to the painting.

The three AI images are from the museumnews Instagram account

#578 A Storm

It is a platform in space. High-
lighted, to further differentiate 
it from the dark abyss that laps 
its edge. There are few stars a-
bout, almost as an afterthought, 
even though they are what would
be expected in this environment. 
What is surprising are the blocks — 

buildings without windows? — 
that dominate this space in space. 
There are also a few multicolored 
clouds around, drifting above & 
between the building blocks. Seems
like a storm might be brewing.

#577 Sentimental Colloquy (1946)

Dans le vieux parc solitaire et glacé, 
Deux formes ont tout à l’heure passé.
Paul Verlaine: Le Colloque Sentimental
Cloaks keep the bilboquets
warm. The gouache is oblique,
which means no light passes

through, which means it makes
it seem even colder. Even in
death, even depicted as andro-

gynous, they can still be recog-
nized as lovers. It is those blue 
eyes that give that fact away.

#576 Forethought (1943)

I have brought you this tree
of flowers. It is one I had
prepared earlier, before I
knew your tastes, & what
colors you liked, & did
perfumes or particular
scents play havoc with
your sensors. Some may
regard this as exemplary
forethought on my part.
I prefer to see it as cover-
ing all the bases as best as
one can in a time of war.

#575 Une Panique au Moyen Âge (2)

Nous sommes les jongleurs sans tête. Nous
avons travaillé ensemble si longtemps 
que nos corps finissent par fusionner.

La plupart du temps, on arrive à garder 
le contrôle ; mais parfois, dans un
environnement inconnu, on perd

le nord. On panique, les aveugles ne 
peuvent plus suivre les autres aveugles.

We are the headless jongleurs. Have
worked together for so long our
bodies are known to merge.

Most times we can keep our shit
together; but, sometimes, in un-
familiar surroundings, we lose

our way. We panic, the blind no
longer able to follow the blind.

#574 Nocturne (2)

A curtain is drawn back
to expose a house that is
burning. It is night, which
makes the flames more
vivid. A bilboquet that
thinks it's a cello watches 
on but makes no attempt
to help or to cover up the
scene by drawing the curt-
ain closed. A bird cut from
some similar cloth is flying 
away. It has nowhere to go.