Making an entrance

Artist versus subject. Now out I storm,
a sight the artist’s eyes can only term

bold; indeed, I can see that point of view.
Behold! Tonight, as is my cloud-clap custom,

I burst on stage, my war-cry at once
full-throated, shocking the grand proscenium.

The brush sees red. The beard becomes a blast
of furry fury. And with this nice turn

to the plot, the show goes on. Painter, call me
what you will. I’ll take the page by storm!