What Is This? Poem by Hannah Everette

'What is this? '
It is my face, though I had not
realized until
you asked.

Not until forced to look did I

study the contours, the planes and ridges.
Not until you asked did I
judge it
as they judge

the paintings that hang in museums.
Not until you asked did I

try to identify which school of thought
produced my lines and shades and
wonder if I am
romantic, surreal, abstract, impressionist.
Wonder who the artist is and if
when he was done
if he asked
'What is this? '

and smiled

or

if he took out a new canvas
to start
again.