every day at the same time he took his scaffolding his paints brushes and picture - carrying case and went to his favorite little old-city street where he was inspired by the winding streets
Every time the same moves-preparation location due to the light because it is essential to fall in the same place When he started he didn't mind the streets passersby who curiously and curiously watched the work of art according to everyone's temperament Some people snap their fingers this is nice others nod their headssome people stopped and watched as they put the paint on the canvas He didn't care because he was a ghost He didn't even realize that for days a pretty woman has been standing behind him at the same hour and he's already talking but at the last minute he always changes his mind You seem embarrassed to address him
One day the woman found herself later than usual and caught the painter packing her equipment - mm-hmm he cleared his throat and looked deeply into each other's eyes the painter was still thinking of his picturewhen the woman had finally decided to come Excuse me sir I've been watching him for days and I want to talk to him "no ki is brave" said the painter - how can I help you? - I'd like a portrait of myself if you'd like you know I thought so I'd surprise my husband with it for Christmas The painter's mind was only just beginning to hear voices What? portrait ? well I'll give you my phone number Ma'am and you call me in the middle of the night and we'll make an appointment I can't promise that we'll do it right away but we'll do some study drawings and then we'll do some work Thank you for the honor Ma'am "it would be really nice not to hide it because it's a tight life without artists to support it A few days have passed since the incident the painter completely forgot about the invitation when the phone rang on a Friday night it was an unusual noise in the studio apartment because the phone noise was very rare Hello? there was a gentle woman's voice buzzing from the other end of the line do you remember me? "I'm the client of the portrait "Oh yes now I remember the painter but he was bluffing for he forgot and was just being polite"
I'd like to know that sound would Tonight be a good start? the truth is the painter thought any time because he's short of money - but loud enough - yeah - here's my address a loud laugh from the other side of the line:)))) I have already discovered that laughter stirred up strange feelings in the painter what he thought was long gone She reminded him of a model when he started who was so beautiful in shape that at first the brush shook in his hand while he painted it and had to take the strength not to take it while he painted it but one day it came during the usual setup as beautiful as she was as cold as she was when we made love he sort of cooled it off and there was no problem with the painting anymore Now fear has come to him again from this memory although this case has been for at least 15 years From his thoughts the bell of the door revived him come in you've opened the door wide in the stairwell there was a pretty woman in her 40s plainly dressed but what she was wearing was sophisticated elegance the painter stood petrified for a moment but then woke up He offered her a seat and muttered something about the mess but she said it again with that pure laugh - I knew where I was going He put her in a comfortable armchair near the window so the light beams would pull everything out of her face He took out the pad of the note and started making sketches sort of get used to the face there was this strange feeling from the painter again and sometimes he would lower the folder I'm not sitting right did I move ?did you ask? - Oh not just I think that's enough drawing for today It's a light conversation about generalities and that it's the only way he can come on weekends if that's all right because you have a lot of work a salesman and it takes a lot of time and you don't come tired They agreed on the next Friday and she can make herself available for the whole weekend if her husband goes hunting with his friends Who walked him to the door he kissed her hand and said goodbye
When he returned to the room he fell into the chair and looked at his sketches he had the picture in his soul but he did he's a prisoner in his dreams he woke up soaking wet in the morning taking pictures of the imaginary relationship Friday seemed so far away
it's hard but it's Friday he was looking forward to the sound of the bell As he spoke he came one step ahead The woman at the door was holding a medium bag he noticed the artist's eyes and smiled with his hands we'll talk about that later He sat in the same chair and the coal in the painter's hand shaded and smudged and the tip of his nose was stained