Image courtesy of artchive.com
A whopping 33″ x 44″ print of Aubrey Beardsley’s The Ascension of Saint Rose of Lima has been snubbing its sarcastic little nose at me from its spot in my sister’s hallway since the fateful day a few years ago when my normally equitable thrifter & gifter of a mum brought it to her and to me a(nother) book on Frieda Kahlo. I’m not sure whether it was her failure to recognise it as a Beardsley print, my sister’s then recent interest in furnishing her home with art, spite, or an early onset of senility which caused this grievous error but the print was clearly meant to go to the sister who does recognise & appreciate Beardsley’s work in all of its saucy glory (that sister being me, of course – I’ve had the limerick which goes with that particular illustration off by heart since I was 16 and believe me, it’s a fun one to pull out in mixed company) and the book to the sister who clearly needs to broaden her knowledge of Frieda’s life and who doesn’t already own 3 books on the matter. I’ve been pissing and moaning about this for 3 years. Until now that is. Now it’s in my living room waiting to be hung because I, being the opportunist that I am, saw an opening to cut an underhandedly shadey deal with my sister which landed me the painting and her a bare hallway wall. I have no shame. The print is mine. Mine mine mine mine mine.