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John William Waterhouse, English
When You Don’t Realize the Milk Has Gone Bad Until You’ve Already Poured It on Your Cereal, 1900
Oil on canvas
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Info, or perhaps links that point to more info, about this artist can be found here, here (archived, if necessary), here, here, here, here (archived, if necessary), here (can be read in full for free on Fridays), here, here (archived, if necessary), here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here (archived, if necessary), perhaps in addition to what’s in his Wikipedia page.
/// Titled ”Destiny,” this work’s allure
comes from Tyche, sedate and demure.
“Luck” is what her name means;
with fate, luck intervenes.
There are symbols here— mostly obscure.
/// Tyche’s thoughts tend toward deep introspection.
She’s Dame Fortune, she hinders perfection.
In her round mirror we
see some ships on the sea,
but just part of the lady’s reflection.
/// Luck, both good and bad working in tandem,
make our lives turn out not as we’d planned ‘em.
Do we all have free will?
It’s a harsh, bitter pill,
but our destiny may just be random.
/// She’s the goddess of Chance; she’s capricious.
That’s why Fate can, at times, seem malicious.
Fortune’s smile is auspicious,
but she’ll quickly turn vicious.
(I’m so glad I am not superstitious!)
/// A farewell sip of wine, Tyche took,
and she gave one last lingering look
as the men sailed to war.
Will their destinies soar?
She consulted her blank open book.
/// As of now, she can see with a glance
that their fortune’s not set in advance.
How their future turns out
could be triumph or rout,
for with Chance there is always a chance.
/// She is solemnly sipping some wine.
Her expression says something’s not fine.
That red dress shows a lump.
Is that her “baby bump”?
Perhaps alcohol she should decline.
/// Poured it into her blue China dish
and then seasoned to taste as she’d wish.
This warm ”broth” which she drank
had been drained from the tank
which contains all her tropical fish.