I close my eyes and see through the eyes of another. The object of his obsession, perhaps I am seeing an unfinished canvas covered in a shade of brown fading towards the center. A portrait done from memory. Her head is tilting down, and a little to the left. Her eyes are closed her eyelids are full and more blond at the tips. She plucks her eyebrows in an attractive arch. She’s a strawberry blonde, her hair is long and pulled back at the temples and tied from behind. Her ear is exposed, an empty hole where an earring should be.
Her skin is tanned, her face is lean and mature. She’s been with child but is not now. Her features are such that she would stand out in a crowd, Her lips are full, some shade of coral and oh so kissable. I have never seen her smile, or heard her laughter. I detect no scent nor aromas.
Her neck is lean, her shoulders are straight. The rest of the canvas seems unfinished. Her eye’s reveal no tales.I do not who’s eyes I am seeing this hauntingly beautiful woman through. With her elegant look not ravished by time. She hides her eyes so they will not speak.
I was having a reoccurring dream. And I was seeing the same face but never a clear image. So I used this painting to describe it. June 4,2013