Today I came into my studio and she finally had worked on the portrait! Still to early to tell if it is a self-portrait, even if I did know what she looks like. She's focusing on the face shape and, I assume, she will paint in the face details once she got the rest just right.
Until today, the painting hadn't changed at all since I started renting half of the studio 3 months ago. 3 months of assuming. First, I assumed she was on vacation. Then, I assumed we had different schedules. Then, I assumed our schedules were mutually exclusive. A month in, I assumed she had died, or been a ghost the whole time. Two months in, I assumed she had gotten pissed when someone (me) had moved into the other half of the studio and was either actively avoiding me, watching me, sabotaging my work, or all three.
How could someone go three months without working? Maybe she didn't do this for money. I did, but it didn't make me much. She was good, though. More than a hobbyist. I mean, she paid for the studio.
I started taking pictures of her half of the studio each time I was there. And, mostly, it didn't change. But there were... little changes. Her hoodie would be laying differently, maybe. Or the easel would face a slightly different angle. Or the stain of a new color would leave itself on the palette - like she was mixing up new colors in the middle of the night, determined to get back on the wagon and finish her masterpiece, only to be crippled by self-doubt once again and give up before she could move the new color to canvas, so she would wash the palette clean to keep it in good condition.
I worried for her.
How could she be so critical of herself? Was she as critical of my work? Or did she praise my work?! Was she so intimidated by my prowess that she couldn't bear to work on her own stuff or even confront or greet me? Was she star-struck?
My God, what have I done?
Maybe I'll make something shitty today. To cheer her up a bit. Maybe she'll be inspired by my mediocrity and find herself again. Shoe herself to me - if she exists at all. Maybe I'll leave her a note setting a time to finally meet in our shared space. It'll say I like her work and want to see more. You can't not reply to a note from your studio-mate, can you? Would she be so heartless? Or would she feel condescended? I certainly could like her work, if she ever finished it. The additions I happened upon today aren't substantial, but they look nice enough. The background looks excellent, actually. Really, excellent. I just want more.
Finish, sweet ghost! Finish your art. Oh, I hope this isn't my fault.
Until today, the painting hadn't changed at all since I started renting half of the studio 3 months ago. 3 months of assuming. First, I assumed she was on vacation. Then, I assumed we had different schedules. Then, I assumed our schedules were mutually exclusive. A month in, I assumed she had died, or been a ghost the whole time. Two months in, I assumed she had gotten pissed when someone (me) had moved into the other half of the studio and was either actively avoiding me, watching me, sabotaging my work, or all three.
How could someone go three months without working? Maybe she didn't do this for money. I did, but it didn't make me much. She was good, though. More than a hobbyist. I mean, she paid for the studio.
I started taking pictures of her half of the studio each time I was there. And, mostly, it didn't change. But there were... little changes. Her hoodie would be laying differently, maybe. Or the easel would face a slightly different angle. Or the stain of a new color would leave itself on the palette - like she was mixing up new colors in the middle of the night, determined to get back on the wagon and finish her masterpiece, only to be crippled by self-doubt once again and give up before she could move the new color to canvas, so she would wash the palette clean to keep it in good condition.
I worried for her.
How could she be so critical of herself? Was she as critical of my work? Or did she praise my work?! Was she so intimidated by my prowess that she couldn't bear to work on her own stuff or even confront or greet me? Was she star-struck?
My God, what have I done?
Maybe I'll make something shitty today. To cheer her up a bit. Maybe she'll be inspired by my mediocrity and find herself again. Shoe herself to me - if she exists at all. Maybe I'll leave her a note setting a time to finally meet in our shared space. It'll say I like her work and want to see more. You can't not reply to a note from your studio-mate, can you? Would she be so heartless? Or would she feel condescended? I certainly could like her work, if she ever finished it. The additions I happened upon today aren't substantial, but they look nice enough. The background looks excellent, actually. Really, excellent. I just want more.
Finish, sweet ghost! Finish your art. Oh, I hope this isn't my fault.