https://caspercollege.cvlcollections.org/files/original/dae6f034b5893d06024da64fe583476a.pdf 366fb731ba6e269978c664b5ea8eb9b4 PDF Text Text SELF PORTRAIT Jim Wade It had been nearly six months since the accident. Paul had adjusted quite quickly. He had never really known how he could paint a landscape in his East Side studio, but now, in his total darkness, he realized he had a photographic memory. Now it was as if he were standing on the steps of “The Americana” watching himself walk down 7th Avenue. The scene was like a film of any afternoon in the city, except that he was the only clear image in the picture, he and the unchanging buildings. The people every­ where around him were only shadows on his mental movie screen. He could see himself with the canvas under his right arm, the white cane over his left. He no longer used the cane except during the rush hours when sidewalk traffic was difficult for him. His light fall suit was threadbare, but he knew it was clean and pressed. He had spent nearly half of his last five dollar bill to make sure of that only the day before. It had been a waste of money and he knew it now. Six months ago he would have been thrown out of David’s office if he had come in with a wrinkled suit. But now he knew David hadn’t even noticed his suit yester­ day. David Goldberg had been Paul’s dealer and benefactor. David was a respected art critic and had a luxurious office suite in a large building on 42nd Street. He remembered yesterday’s conversation with David as clearly as he remembered 42nd Street, onto which he had now turned. The words still drummed in his ears. “Hello, Paul. How very good to see you.” “It’s nice to be here again, David.” “What can I do for you?” “I was just out walking, soaking up the sun and the sounds and—” Paul heard David strike the match and smelled the smoke. David never lit a cigar when he was interested. It disturbed Paul and pushed him to the purpose of the visit before he was prepared. “I need a loan, David.” “Of course, Paul. How much?” “Don’t you want to know what I want it for?” “Certainly not. I’m sure you wouldn’t ask unless you needed it. Just tell Ann how much you need and she’ll write you a check.” “I want to go to school, David.” “Good for you. Ann will take care of it for you.” “I never did anything but paint, David, but they are going to teach me.” “Of course they will. Ann, sign a check for Paul, will you? No amount. I’m glad to help you, Paul. Come see me anytime.” —10— �“But David! What about interest and terms of repayment?” “Forget it, Paul. We’ll work it out sometime. It was good to see you, Paul.” “It wasn’t very good to see you, David,” thought Paul as he entered the building. He gave the canvas and an envelope to the elevator girl, walk­ ed back into the street, and lost himself amid innumerable shadows. By some chance David was sitting, with a very warm feeling, thinking about his generosity with Paul when Ann brought the paper-covered canvas and the envelope into his office. The envelope had two pieces of paper in it: the blank check he had given Paul, and a sheet with two spasticly let­ tered words, “Self Portrait.” David stripped the paper from the canvas and gazed with his heart in his throat. In the center of the pitch black canvas was a crudely-done solitary tin cup. PASSION FOR THE NIGHT Engrossed with envy. Prosperity besets me everywhere. Comes the sun, I travel to my burrow and stay there. So low, unable to face humanity, They cringe at the very sight of me. Finally! The deep, dark depths of night rain down, Filling the streets with opportunity abound. Yes, this is my life! I love the day blackened. Now they cannot look upon my face, and 1 am wretched. —Frank D. Neville SMALL the shockproof . . . the irradiated . . . the white and black . . . days when the quiet pen screams to be used days when you want to jump off the world days when the fulcrum of life tips the distorted perspective of late hours plundering my mind .. .. and the world sees me and I am small the world’s critics see me and I am smaller yet. —Steve Halversen —11— � Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Text Any textual data included in the document Print magazine story Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "Self Portrait" Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/</a> The Casper College Archives has archived this story to encourage the use of its Expression Literary Arts Magazines for digital humanities and other related educational uses. Date Created Date of creation of the resource. 1964 Description An account of the resource A story published by Jim Wade in the fall 1964 Casper College Expression magazine. Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Jim Wade Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. 1964 Fall. Expression Literary and Arts Magazine, CCA 04.ii.c.2022.01 WyCaC US. Casper College Archives and Special Collections. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context CCA_04.ii.c.01_Expression1964_Fall_Wade Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Extent The size or duration of the resource. 2 pages