She sits waiting. This is the mesmerizing part. She did not exist. Now she watches and waits. I can turn off the lights, walk through the garden, pass by the bird feeders, call the dog and walk up the stairs. I can eat dinner, watch a movie, drink wine and go to bed. Next morning I will unlock the studio door and she will be sitting looking at me. ‘I’m here, now what’, she says.
I’ve started something. I can’t go back. This is the out of control part of creation. She wants more and I know this.
Here she is in pieces. It’s the eyes. She can already picture herself. This stage has to be short. No breaks. ‘Flesh me out’, is all I hear. I get to work.
I take a deep breath and hear her sigh. Now we can work together. I tuck a delicate floral rayon under her chin. Nothing. Then I scrounge around in the tulle and bunch up black netting, mocking up a crinoline. Hmmm. Soft rumpled lace, palest pink. She just sits there. We are getting nowhere.
We both take a nap.
I know what she needs. A little colour. Ah a little red wine. Diluted of course. She immediately sticks her face in it. My kind of girl.
Her legs were my idea.
Enough for today she says.
xoLA
Loverly Flamingos darling!
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…it was “Any Old Day” that elicited my comment….
…the last line…..the reason keep on doing what you do. xo
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