Belle Walston

English

Webster

4/9/17

Choose a painting that features a human

figure and collect details for a short story
written from that figures point of view. The
short story should include details about the
culture/time period of the piece.

Metaphysical

I traced my finger lazily on the bedsheets as Luiza struggled with her easel on

the opposite end of the room. She was the one who had told me to rush on the urgent

note that the lighting is perfect, Sophie!, but only now was she settling down and

beginning to pick up a brush. Most of the rain clouds had dispersed and given way to

the pale yellow light that filtered in from the floor-to-ceiling glass window.

Put your drink aside, she ordered, smiling teasingly. I sighed, If Im going to be

laying here for hours, I should be allowed to have a Caipiroska.

Still, Luiza was stern when she came down to it; there was no use in arguing.

Without cocktail in hand, laying there nude and reclining felt awkward. She seemed to

be satisfied, though, as she began already applying strokes to the canvas.

Her glances towards me were long, periodic, yet distant. She was observing me

like a researcher studies a subject, an intense focus strayed from intimacy by a certain

level of professionalism. This was not uneasy, but it shocked me to see this side of
someone who had always presented herself as starry-eyed and romantic. I began to

zone into my own thoughts, and it occurred to me that I had never really watched Luiza

paint. I always praised her final pieces, but the process was never something I had

been a part of. Luizas reasoning for this was that I didnt have an art brain, and I

shamefully argued that it was just that I had been too busy with training. At the time, I

had just begun residency at Unimed-Rio. Although the hospital tried to keep my hours

capped at 50 per week, I found myself having to work longer and longer. This free

evening meant a lot to me.

Why do you paint? I finally asked after a long period of subdued silence, I

know that you love painting people; Ive seen your work. But if you love the body so

much, why dont you just lay with me?

Luiza did not look up. You know all the shapes and colors in my paintings? I

murmured my mmhm. Well, she explained, that isnt the kind of thing you can

experience tactilely, yeah? While the form itself is beautiful on the surface, there is

something even more compelling in the abstract.

I had a hard time understanding this concept. I assumed she meant that there

was something beautiful in a models personality that she was trying to capture in her

art. She noticed my silence and I noticed a soft smile on her lips.

I know youre not a philosopher, but youre very smart, so listen to this, Luiza

began.

At least surgery is a practical science, I retorted. Luizas laugh brightened the

space around us.

 Anyway, she proceeded, you know how each persons perception of the world

is different? Like, theres no way of telling that your reality is the same as someone

elses.

I guess.

Luiza stopped and looked at me. Through art, I can ensure that someone else

experiences my reality. I can accentuate the shapes that only I notice in a body, and I

can illustrate the aura I see around them. The physical beauty is there, sure, but

through art the metaphysical is given life. Others can look through my eyes.

I stared back at her. Finally, I spoke, I think I understand. Luiza turned to paint,

but then she stopped as I continued, I wanted to be a surgeon because of how

intrigued I was with function. There are so many intricate parts to the human body, and

they all manage to work together towards a common goal. There is a strength there, but

there is also a weakness when everything depends on such a delicate balance. To be

able to observe something like that, underneath the skin, is magical.

Silence again. Luiza said, that sounded like poetry.

This time I laughed. Im glad its you whos the artist, not me, I confessed, I

think I sounded silly.

Luiza stepped from her post and took my hand gently. I think you would make a

fine artist. Suddenly, she seized my cocktail from the bedside table and announced,

take a drink, my love. We still have a while until Ill be happy with this piece.