Club Zig Zag

Club Zig Zag

1925

Entering the Drunken Moon Pavilion

I see the Rosenquist afore me. Looms large, not suprising. Large cut rough cut canvas, rough cut into four equal pieces, rearranged into vexing quadrants of brilliant red roses, silver capsules of red lipstick, long sultry legs with black nylon, the wink and a smile and a silly laugh of the Impossible Girl, and some sticks of Wrigley's gum. Surprising. Title: Untitled (Ununited States Mach IV)

My host, Liu Jipiao (also known as Tepeou Liou), is kind enough to gently hold or lock arms with me, me in my heavy bear fur coat, though I don't really need it. I'm only one hundred and one. Barely a child. I eat prunes. Practice Qigong. Meditate. Deficate. And take in Art and Nature daily. If the Sun shines bright, I will paint with The Moderns, in the Modern Spirit. And perhaps. And perhaps eat a cookie.

As for tonight, we are in the China Pavilion, written up in the brochure as Drunken Moon Pavilion, posters by Erté advertising the Experience as L'élégant Bretzel Argenté due to its unique architectural form, and whispered and laughed about among the artists here as Club Zig Zag.

I stand in front of Untitled (Ununited States Mach IV) to have my picture taken and maybe be on TV, on the one channel around the World. Which would be swell.

Nevertheless, L'élégant Bretzel Argenté suits me. Club Zig Zag suits me. And so Liu Jipiao snaps a picture. A Giant Bear Skin Rug with toothpick arms and toothpick legs sticking out from it. Fine long black dagger-like shoes leather-crafted in Japan by the finest Japanese fingers that practically disappear at night. My crisp straw boater hat and yellow dandelion. My Chinese Cowboy eyes gleaming.

Liu Jipiao's camera flash almost sets his hair on fire.