“You have something pent up inside. You are frustrated. You need to create.”
We go to her art studio after the beer is gone. One by one we switch on the lights to reveal nude figure drawings on every wall.
There is a static buzzing in my brain, yet I can’t figure out where this electricity is coming from. Why does it feel like a heated spark is bouncing around inside of my skull? I realize, crazily, that the nudes are conduits of energy, and I’m picking up a charge just being near them. I want to feel this power all the time. I suddenly decide I will go to art school and immerse myself in charcoal and pencils and pastels. But do I want to be an artist playing with shadow and light or do I want to be the nude figure, face turned to the wall, pubic hair and nipple boldly exposed? When the static calms I realize that I want neither.
1. Yellow and brown paper coffee cup.
2. Rubber band, fat. The kind that holds your broccoli stalks together.
3. Bottle of German mineral water: Gerolsteiner.
4. Pencils of all sizes.
6. Stoneware mustard bottle holding paint brushes of various size, bristles up.
7. Two saints candles.
8. Reclined nude pencil drawing. Her legs are up the wall, head and arms resting on an oversized pillow.
9. Hoosier cabinet: light sage green with enamel-top work surface.
10. Lemon juicer: ceramic, white and blue.
Time to go. Walking into the cold air feels good and sobering though I've had nothing at all to drink. I'm ready to create now, give birth to what she saw pent up inside me. I say a little prayer to the cold stars thanking them for this night.