lola —after the painting by picasso

the title is incorrect. it should read lola —after the painting by ruiz, since that was his name until 1900 or so, but who would know ruiz? i didn't—later he liked his mama's name better hence the change. lola, the younger sister, a shy girl already marveling at her older brother, already knowing he was going to be big, real big, a sensation. of course this is not the painting of lola from the painter's early days, but you have to understand it was the blue i was after from the start, it was the blue i liked, a deeper blue, deeper than the timid blue surrounding lola as she sits on a white chair (or is it a bed?) sideways to the viewer, pale pink layered sleeves and a long white shawl bunched near her neck, draping into her lap, her blue lap, her head a profile of dark hair pulled back in a bun like her mother's hair minus the streaks of gray—maybe she's holding something in her tidy little hands which rest quietly on her lap? i can't tell—eyes focused on the golden evening lights in the darkness beyond the window. i'm sure she is daydreaming about that boyfriend of hers (she's such a typical teenager)—why didn't he stop by today?—she is in a bad mood (too much grouchy pout) while pablo paints, more blue, more blue, sit still will you? along with blue and white there are bits of green and pink and i think it is sad, melancholy, the way the colors combine and the whole thing looks like the painter was outside looking in through a rain streaked window, or maybe he was standing inside at his easel but rain kept getting in the way, dripping through a hole in the roof—oh the loneliness of the pale blue haze, a washed out weariness like grief moldering the scene. lola looks as if she might melt off the canvas any minute—watch out, don't slip on the slick paint where her chair and dress and mouth and breasts collapse becoming startled geometrical shapes straddling a wet pavement coursed by neat black boots, tiny buttons running up the ankle, and staring into street lamps lit over an hour ago during dinner when lola grumpily mumbled pablo would you please pass the salt?