May I have a box?

Fellow food-lovers, with deepest apologies for my long absence, I take up my pen (well, keyboard) for a slight digression from our normal theme of actual food to explore a new development in the avant garde food art scene. I am sure that our liberal-minded and well-mannered readers will welcome this diversion with the same gusto with which they would sample a new dish.

One night, yours truly was swilling a beer at Old Town when she happened upon a curious object that appeared to be a smallish take-out box with some doodling on the top:


Upon closer observation, I gazed with growing interest upon what appeared to be a sophisticated, yet horrifying, dreamscape of Old Town's ladies' restroom :


Never one to let a good story get away, I immediately sought out the artist. After some confusion with a waiter over the pronunciation of Labatt Blue, I was led to a dim corner table with a single guttering candle. There in the shadows sat the hidden genius behind the momentous work that was soon to rock the food art world. (The artist declines to reveal her identity and will hereafter be referred to as Brown-eyed Athena, according to her preference.) The following is a transcript of our brief interview--the longest to date, that any reporter has ever been able to obtain with the elusive artist:

L: Ms. Athena, I am so interested in your work. I was wondering if you might describe your artistic vision?"

BEA: "What is art?" (followed by a deep, meaningful gaze)

L: "Um, well, perhaps you could tell me what inspired your sketch on this particular takeout box?"

BEA: "Rhianna's album Disturbia."

L: "Oh. I see. Now, some viewers originally thought the girl in the picture was holding a whip with which she meant to attack the approaching monster, but experts then deemed the frail, yet wiry arch to represent the top of a toilet seat. Would you like to comment?"

BEA: "No, I would not."

L: Alright, well let me just ask you a final question, then. Do the contents of the takeout box in any way affect the drawing on its surface? That is, would this work's essence be different if the box contained french fries rather than chicken tenders?"

BEA: "Does this have an essence? But I suppose that since the British patriarchy would require at least some answer from me, I'll concede that the animal-like shape of the chicken tender does resemble the creature in the bathroom stall.

L: "Thank you for your insight, Ms. Athena. Do you have any other comments?"

BEA: "Yes, I do, in fact. I think it's important to consider the reactions of non-human people. If my cat saw this work, she would sniff the corner of the box for two seconds, squeak at it gently, and then go sit by her string and meow until I came to play with her. My cat is really the one who keeps me grounded, so I would like to give her credit for being a collaborator in my work."

Ms. Athena continues to be tight-lipped about the "so-called meaning" of her artwork, but fans are not hesitant to offer their own speculation. A soulful young physicist confessed: "Ms. Athena's work inspires feelings of a destroyed childhood--like when one discovers what a chicken tender actually is."

What do you think? What does the image on this box represent? Is it important to know what food the box encloses before attempting to interpret its meaning? Can art ever have a meaning? Where do you see the take-out box genre heading next? Feel free to post comments below.