Hi there, guys and dolls! And another weekend zip, bang gone! How does that happen? Well, quickly and even faster when you spend time in the company of a great artiste. Let me tell you all about it.
See, I’ve always had a thing for art. I don’t understand it, but I try. I can hem and haw with the best of them. You know, light, perspective, what is the artist trying to say, how does it make you feel, all that stuff.
Truthfully, I have no idea. Actually, I just kind of like artists. They touch you in the most interesting places and look at you for hours, and I do like to be admired. Oh yes, and musicians, they’re fun too, but that’s a whole other story for another time.
So there I was in the art gallery, studying this painting intently. Actually, what I was trying to do was remember what was on my missing grocery list. For the life of me, I knew there was milk, eggs, bread and something else…oh never mind. Then I caught the eye of this man looking at me. Not bad, a little mature, but that might mean he not only had experience but maybe now a little money. That’s a good thing. So, I stood there, watching the painting with one eye and watching him watch me with the other.
And of course, after a while of looking, not looking, I got him to break the ice. I might have had to reach out and almost touch the painting to get him to talk (well, actually gasp to stop me from getting my fingerprints on the work – oh come on, we all know I wouldn’t do it, but it got him to say something at least), but my mission was accomplished.
After he took me to lunch and we were well plied with a martini or two, he suggested that he should do a ‘rough sketch’ of me up in his studio. Well then, didn’t that sound like a good idea to while away an afternoon? Why not? I couldn’t remember what groceries I needed, might as well have a little fun instead.
Anyhoo, when we got to his attic studio, eight flights of stairs, I might add. I pretty much guessed what the routine would be. Turns out he really was a painter. There were sketches, half finished works all about, he was the real thing! And there’s me thinking it was just a rouse for a little creative way to spend some time.
I was so excited! I was really going to be an artist’s muse! Immortalized in art! For real. No need to tell me twice. I was going to pop off my togs and be in my birthday suit in a jiffy, show him I had no inhibitions, not for the sake of art.
But before I could unsnap a garter, he asked me what in the heck I was doing. Oh, so even if I was willing to be that sort of girl for the right reasons (art) he was not that sort of artist. I was mildly disappointed, I was ready to have my attributes glorified for eternity and he thought they should remain covered. Fair enough. Tasteful works, so does being able to show your family what you posed for.
So he was a real, not con, artist. He didn’t talk while he worked and I stood there for hours (maybe it was just ten minutes), and I still couldn’t remember all my grocery list. I thought of everything else, though. The names of all my grade school friends, what movies I saw over the year, the lyrics to ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ all that stuff. One numb brain and stiff back later, he showed me his work that I had inspired. Just think – would it be a portrait – stunning, beautiful, a fashion plate? Then I saw it. REALLY? THAT? It was a pile of squiggles all tangled up, I had no idea what it was.
Well, that was interesting. At least I remembered what else I needed to buy – a ball of string! That tied things up nicely after all…
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more posts. And don’t forget to give my Poppy Cove Mysteries a try if you haven’t already.
Toodles, Barbara Jean