On Day 2 of an impressively large writing conference, I went to the Convention Center early in the morning to look at art. Long before the din of the crowd filled the corridors and the name-badged and tote-bagged masses started lining up for coffee, I was in solitude looking at the acrylic works on canvas that lined the cavernous second floor hallways. I enjoy looking at art any day, but this morning my art viewing was partly in preparation for one of the first panels of the day called “Ekphrasis Goes Prose.”
