That motorcycle noise from that neighbor behind the house, across the backyard, woke him into a headache. What time could it be? Max felt like he could be dead, or on his way to his death. His left eye discerned the number 12 on the digital clock and closed again. It would be one of those days, the day after too much drinking, something he had vowed to never repeat again. Download: Chapter 1 – Max falls apart.pdf About “A Work of Art” Advertisements
“A work of art!” Peter thought, wondering at the same time why he would so qualify the gigantic, mostly white, digitally rendered portrait of the Golden Gate Bridge. He reminded himself not to judge. Sam stood behind the print, laid out on the living room floor where they had moved the furniture aside, waiting for a word from the frame maker. Download: Chapter 2 – the framing.pdf About “A Work of Art”
Peter! You have been at the party long enough! It’s time for you to stand up and leave these so-called artists, because it’s you that I need, because you are my artist. You, the chosen one, will paint me, and I’m not sure all that free booze has helped you stay focused on your goal, our common goal, in fact, my life. It’s almost twelve hours since you drew the first sketches, and what have you achieved since? Have you attained clarity in your mind about what it is that you want to paint? You must be tired, and I’m almost sorry this will be our night. Download: Chapter 3 – POV the painting.pdf About “A Work of Art”
This was not going to be an ordinary Sunday. Peter reached sleepily for the pen and spiral notebook that always sat on his nightstand to capture his dreams before they vanished. He wrote: Download: Chapter 9 – Painted state of mind About “A Work of Art”
The Birth of a Neo-Expressionist Painting Memories clog the channels of the mind The fingers twitch from the need to paint Alerting sensations to the task. Eyes sit on the subject A mantra meditatively clearing ideas on a false start. A tentative dip in color An adroit skin tone begins In softness imagined, moisturized and hydrated. A dissonant vase made and cracked in a virtual world A nest in a corner of what could be love Unseen notes from a singing voice Floating to the suggested ears Give the body a frisson. A timely switch to a less dominant hand blends in A quasi medieval being massages the back, invisible Thrusting the body towards the viewer An unintended provocation. The painting is unfinished.