THE BLIND 
M A N 
13 
MARIE LAURENCIN 
She Is shortsighted—nevertheless, no detail of life 
escapes her. 
She is sentimental—yet, she has a very acute sense 
of irony and of the ridiculous. 
She is bourgeoise and respects social conventions 
but recognizes no other law than her fantasy. 
She seems frail and defenseless, but her egotism, 
unceasingly active, makes her unattackable. 
She has remained a playful and dangerous child 
even if her vision is clear and wise. 
She gives herself, reveals herself, opens her life like 
a book but remains impregnable. 
She loves richesse, elegance and luxury and is fond 
of the realities of order and economy. 
She has been little influenced. Perhaps some Eng 
lish painters, whose aristocracy she loves, have left 
some traces in her work.—She does not recognize 
esthetic conventions.—She recreates the world to her 
image. She does not know but herself, does not repre 
sent but herself, and even when she copies she does not 
express but her own imagination. 
In her work, she only loves the accomplished effort, 
being contemptuous of its artistic value. Though she 
does not attempt to go beyond the conventionalist of 
representation, her spirit shows all the comprehention 
of modern art. She invents according to her fantasy 
and makes her selections according to her profound 
instinct for harmony and rhythm. To her gift of paint 
ing she adds her literary gift which is always felt in 
her work.—A drawing of hers, scarcely sketched often 
tells a long story. 
She loves her femininity which she exalts and cul 
tivates, finding in it her best sources for her inventive 
ness. 
The seventeen drawings and watercolors exhibited 
at the Modern Gallery have the charm and subtlety 
which she always imparts to her work, but to me, three 
of those drawings especially reveal her personality: 
“The Little Mule” is an astonishing expression of her 
literary imagination and of her sense of protection.— 
The animal has a human expression, the troubled ex 
pression of her own eyes—the delicacy of its lines, the 
elegance of its details, preciously reproduced, evoke 
the mystical personage of a prince encased in the body 
of a beast. 
“The Lady of the Palms” is an old fashion plate, 
its complicated architecture charmed her. Her fantasy, 
her sense of form and harmony transported the old 
fashion plate into a landscape of palms. 
“The two Dancers,” by the accuracy and sobriety of 
its traits, by its ensemble and proportions, give the 
sensation of a moving rhythm. 
It would be odd to see Marie Laurencin in America,. 
GABRIELLE BUFFET. 
The Supreme intense gluttony 
To Cut my throat. 
The utter lust to let 
Red Blood roll down 
-The expectant upturned breasts 
Or what better than 
The smooth security of 
Tightening rope 
When mass obeying gravity 
Forfeits Life? 
Perhaps my head upon the sill 
A window 
Coming swiftly down 
Would link my consciousness 
With Queens. 
Again a * knife 
In the grasp of that impenetrable 
blank wall 
I Falling 
Might lend at last a line 
To pure Monotony. 
Have I courage to keep on 
Beating out my Brains 
When Regret should have entered 
The First Fist? 
To die with flowers? Too soft— 
To burn in perfumed oil? 
Too slow— 
All forces that are not Mine— 
I will, I will Hold my Breath - 
And Fell asleep 
And Dreamed I drowned. 
Frances Simpson Stevens. 
Let us droop our heads over each other like lilies 
And our bodies remain long. 
ALLEN NORTON