The picture above is a photograph (captured by photographer Bill Ray) of the artist Roy Lichtenstein sitting amongst four of his paintings at a New York art gallery. It is hanging in my second-floor hallway, just to the right of the upstairs port of my chair lift. I face it when I depart the lift, and since I stand up slowly, I have time to appreciate its complexity.

 Please focus on the picture in the upper right corner where the anonymous woman says: IT’S -IT’S NOT AN ENGAGEMENT RING. IS IT?

They are a handsome couple in a conventional sense. Dressed well and expensively, especially in view of the double-stranded pearl necklace Betsy is wearing. Betsy is a good name. I made it up. It provides a retro feel—think Betsy Ross, think early Protestant America.

He, let’s call him Harold, appears befuddled and thin-lipped. I am not sure what those spots are on his right cheek. I hope it is nothing serious. If Harold has any interesting attributes, they are not readily apparent.

I must backtrack a little about Harold. He is the product of an excellent family, and although you cannot be sure about appearances, he will never be a wife-beater.

There is also an uncanny resemblance between Harold and the artist.

By now your interest in Harold has faded.

Our eyes and mind rest on Betsy.

What is she thinking?

Was she hoping for an engagement ring?

You are old-fashioned, and you think Betsy is disappointed because she was expecting a diamond ring and a fancy June wedding with twelve bridesmaids.

On the other hand, maybe she is disappointed that it is an engagement ring. She hardly knows Harold, and he isn’t exactly Mr. Fun. It is possible Betsy’s career plans are not ready for marriage or domesticity.

Betsy will feel bad if she disappoints Harold.

It’s also possible that Betsy is beginning to wonder if she is not binary. Her distant girl cousin visiting from England has spurred on edgy thoughts, even frissons, after their horseback riding and sailing adventures.

Look now at the painting in the lower left corner. Is it possible, do you think, that after Betsy met Brad at the Whitney Museum Art Exhibition, she became overwhelmed by his rugged know-it-all smirk and his whispered preference for a gentler and more conventional appearing woman than his friend?

As for Harold, his thoughts of lost love are spinning away like morning dreams as Rosita (pictured in the photograph at the lower right) reads his fortune at the Lake Forest County Fair. Her skin is at the pale edge of dark, her beflowered hair falling in waves past her neck but kept snug with the use of the lightweight hairstyling spray (pictured) as she strokes the depths and lengths of the heart and head and sun lines of Harold’s palms.

– Michael Ellman