Is That You?

We went over to the National Portrait Gallery today. I'm beginning to love these hot August days in D.C.-- nobody's around, so not only did we get a parking spot right in front, but we had the whole third floor to ourselves, just us and the 20th Century Americans. I've decided that I like a good bust. (Minds out of the gutter, people-- I mean a marble or bronze head.) In fact, if anyone should ever choose to immortalize my visage for any reason, I want it to be a bust. (That sounds kind of amusing, too. Ha ha. Let's just get it all out... Bust, bust! bust, bust. Ready to continue? OK.) Here's why: my features will be, by definition, chiseled, and my hair? Why, my hair will look great! Marble and bronze hair always looks fabulous. For that hair, I could put up with those creepy blank eyes. So make it a bust, friends, unless I live to be over 80, and then I'd like a nude portrait like Alice Neel's. (I especially love the toes on her right foot.)