







If the morning light is dim enough, everything in the room seems to emerge on its own. White dog, red sofa, brown wicker chair, glow, with no outlines. Green world out the far window, usually much brighter, has never seemed so endlessly green. The less I can see of my hands and the page, the more I write. Light recedes, reality advances.
It’s an orange cap, right in front of me where I’m sitting, an orange cap with a white tiger paw logo. It’s lying upside down, so that we only see the back stitching of the logo, in the upturned lid of a white cardboard banker’s box. Draped over the far edge of the box lid, so that the fingers fall out of sight and the lower part touches the cap, is a lady’s pair of soft black gloves. A painter comes in, Jan van Eyck or Jan Vermeer perhaps — anyway, Jan comes in and expertly paints this little tableau into the far corner of a canvas filled with many such set-pieces. There’s an ornate round mirror beyond the window on the left wall, a lacrosse stick leaning up in a corner, a dusty black wood stove, a shelf with a small plastic treasure chest, and, on the right wall, a framed print of wild turkeys in a field of tall yellow grass. Jan leaves, and takes his painting with him.
William Van Doren, ARTEMIS AND ZEUS. Sunset from Stony Point, Albemarle County, Va. Oil on watercolor block, 13 x 19.
I couldn’t think of a title, so this was basically named by fans at the Facebook page.
Deciphering a Grocery List Made While Driving