Sketch for Sarah
by Ray Agius
Original - Not For Sale
Price
Not Specified
Dimensions
14.000 x 16.000 inches
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Title
Sketch for Sarah
Artist
Ray Agius
Medium
Painting - Watercolour On Cold-pressed 300 Gsm Watercolour Paper
Description
Sketch for Sarah
Sarah
Watercolour on Arches 300 gsm Watercolour Block.
16” X 12” (40cm X 30cm)
Sarah taps at the door and her impish eyes smile at me from the open gap in the doorway. She thinks she is so grown up but she tiptoes ungainly towards the old couch with an embarrassed grin. At 12 she still has that "Puppy" scent!
She is at an awkward stage, body visibly changing, face transforming between a child and a girlish look, ultimately nature will sculpture it to mimic her mothers’ petite orb with those huge eyes. That beautiful Mediterranean look that will be the downfall of many a boy.
She hops on my couch, balls her body and hugs her knees, fidgets and complains of sleeplessness. I smile and nod while she talks and talks at me, her uncle, I murmur ever so slightly to the odd bleary eyed: "What do you think Unk!” I replace the work on the easel with a fresh sheet of watercolour-paper.
I know she likes her uncle who is never much in the country. She think he is "Cool". She says she cannot talk in the same way to anyone else. I Sketch her quickly including her almost dispossessed eyes.
I reach for the brushes, feel and massage the bristles to keep myself from saying anything. I love working late in the night but never comfortable with emotions when my guard is down. One feels a fraud...and yet sadly proud to be here at her hour of need.
listening to her disjointed musings, the soon to be woman was pouring out her soul to me… to the one who never wanted an emotional attachment or such a heavy burden, so I paint as she mumbles cascading thoughts.
The under-painting done I mentally select the colours to set off her colourful aura. Nighttime and tiredness makes one oddly spiritual without being a believer.
I could see she was tottering between wake and sleep…I can see I will lose her soon. She is too passionate not to fall in love totally and deeply with an undeserving lout, such a lout as I have been throughout my own lifetime and then I will just be a faded memory. Deservingly so I suppose!
But I am happy to just listen for once. I angle my umbrella Lamp for a softer dissipation of light. She talks of boredom and adventure, things hardly possible for a girl with village parents and a tight loving family on a miniscule budget.
I incline the easel further. The heat from the lighting and that of our bodies drying the paint quicker that I would like. From a plastic bottle I spray water over the paper and see it shimmer in the reflected light.
I think back on my own lifestyle and wonder if she could survive what I survived in my supposedly idyllic life. Those times when I despaired for that hug from someone I had pushed away in my selfishness. That wish of belonging that always made me feel trapped and breathless.
She is too naive for the cruelty that lies beyond this friendly shore. I will be gone again soon, in some years I might return, invited to her wedding to that lucky boy who will steal her innocent big eyes from me. Would I matter that much then and why do I need it to matter? At least I will have this painting to remember this night by.
I notice it is quiet...she sleeps in a foetal curl, sweet squeaks coming from her dreams. I lift gently, weighing and balancing her body to my chest. Lazy arms encircle my neck. I tread carefully the 2 steps to the corridor and barefooted step those 15 feet to her room. Gently I nudge the door with my shoulder and lay her down on her bed as I catch a murmured unintelligible piece of a dream.
Pulling the bed-cover over her tiny body I leave, only looking back once. It is time to pack. My plane leaves at 8:35 tomorrow morning.
I feel emptiness in my soul but happiness in my heart...This is special!
Copyright © Raymond Agius
Uploaded
August 16th, 2016
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Viewed 364 Times - Last Visitor from Wilmington, DE on 03/29/2024 at 3:18 AM
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Comments (3)
Laurel Adams
Is there a second media like pencil or ink contained in this entry? If not, I must remove it… a brilliant piece and backstory.