(monologue in three paragraphs)
cut out each strip & collect ART!
H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y, P A B L I T O ! You would have been 71 years old today, May 5th. But you chose to end your life prematurely, at 24. I’m glad your sister Marina was with you when you died. She took care of you, like all sisters do, right? I heard that one of the most terrible blow that parents experience is witnessing their child die before they die—your father passed away two years after you did. He drank himself to death.
So many questions to ask you! How does it feel to be the grandchild of a famous artist? How do you feel about being named after your grandpa? Did you have any of his works displayed at home? Did your classmates know about your grandpa? Did they understand his work? And finally, why did you really do it? Is it true that you were devastated because you couldn’t go to his funeral? Why did you do it, Pablito?
[pause – uncomfortable silence – no soundtrack]
Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked those last questions. Depression is a source of unhappiness and sometimes induces suicidal thoughts. Someone said, I think referring to the poet Sylvia Plath, that “depression is as necessary to the creative soul as sleep is necessary to the body.” Really? Some people see the premonition of suicide in van Gogh’s unfinished paintings. (Of course, he didn’t finish them.) My friend Gustav even finds traces of suicidal ennui in Janis Joplin singing Gershwin’s Summertime. So, I’ll ask again and again, Pablito Picasso (1949-1973): Why in Hell did you drink that damned bottle of bleach ? ! ?
— New York City, 5/5/2020