Glorious DayA Story by siddhartha288
An interaction between two impressionable people. One is an artist and the other is still looking for something to grasp.
Hello, hello. Such a glorious day to interact with nature and behave carelessly towards each other. You feel the truth that I speak. You must live it. You must breathe it in effortlessly.
What does it mean to be human? What does it mean to have needs? Perhaps nothing; perhaps everything. One can only know for certain if one embraces old notions. Sounds primitive but oh so viable.
Last month involved some amount of effort on my part but it was
worth the stretch. That was right around the same time that I first encountered
her. Her and her beautiful hair.
She was also very independent. On our first official date she insisted on paying for everything. I tried my best to offer to pay but she would have none of it. We were kind of setup by a mutual acquaintance. We were both reluctant to meet at first.
The date took place at a local seafood restaurant. The lobster
looked particularly delicious and so did she. She wore a slinky little red
dress that clung to her body like a rich man clings to money.
The majority of the evening involved her going on and on about the
office she worked at and how much she hated everyone. Then she briefly
mentioned her likes and dislikes. Her likes included dancing, drinking,
chatting with friends via facebook, chatting with friends via cell phone and
the movies of miss Catherine Hepburn. Her dislikes included dancing too much,
drinking too much, people who don't like facebook, people who don't like to
chat and the movies of Adam Sandler.
"Why are you studying my hand?" I asked. "Oh I've been taking this art class and we've been sketching the human hand lately." "Oh really? That sounds cool. So how long have you been sketching?" "Not too long. I actually consider myself an amateur but I do hope to get better at it." "Well I definitely have to see your sketches some day." I bit into a buttered roll. "Yeah. Hey! You can model for me."
"I seriously doubt you'd want me to model for you."
"Sure I do. Why not?" She popped the last morsel of chicken finger in
her mouth and smiled. It really was difficult for me to believe that a gorgeous
female like her would want a shlub like me to model for her own artistic
vision. But I figured it couldn't hurt.
"Hold that pose! Like that. Yes." Her voice echoed
throughout as she sketched away vigorously. "Oh ok. Like this? Is this
good?" "Yes! That's a great pose." I held my arms up over my
head as if reaching for some anonymous sky object. Even though it was the first
time I had posed nude for anyone I felt surprisingly comfortable.
"Okay. We'll I'm done sketching. Sorry it took so long."
She threw down her sketch pad and charcoal pencils. "I don't mind. It was
an interesting experience for me. It isn't everyday that a beautiful girl such
as yourself wants to sketch a guy like me." "You really think I'm
beautiful?" "I don't just think... I know." She blushed then
moved closer to me.
"Is it okay if I send the sketches of you to the gallery for
my upcoming show?" "Gallery? What gallery?" I knew what she was
asking but I was deliberately trying to lose myself in her reflective mane.
"I have a gallery showing coming up in two weeks. I forget the name of the
gallery but it's somewhere downtown." "Oh. Aren't they all located
downtown?" "Uh yeah now that you mention it they are all downtown.
Hmm." She gently applied a ruby red lip-gloss and puckered onto a torn
sheet of paper. She then handed it to me.
I didn't see her again until two weeks later at her gallery showing. The gallery was indeed located downtown and was called Le Gallerie. Which I assume is French or something for The Gallery. There were many sketches and paintings being exhibited. The first one I came across was a painting of a deformed man eating some sausage links. I couldn't tell if I found it humorous or ridiculous. The next one I noticed was a life sized sketch of a nude woman with six arms moving about. I admired the painstaking charcoal strokes produced by the artist. Each line appeared to jump off the paper.
"Hi! I'm so glad you came!" Charlotte literally ran up
to me and gave me an enormous hug. "Oh uh yeah. I almost didn't make it
due to other obligations but then my schedule suddenly freed up." That was
a blatant lie. I guess it was my way of trying to be aloof. I smelled her hair
as she hugged me. It smelled glorious.
I stared at myself in sketch form. I didn't look as awful as I normally do. "So what do you think?" She stood right next to me; in between me and the sketched me. "Oh it's a really good likeness." "You can tell me you hate it if you want to. I'll understand." "Huh? No, no. I do not hate it. Not at all." "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure. Very sure." "Okay. Thanks. I'm sorry I must seem insecure it's just that most people dislike my work." She rubbed my arm gently then turned towards an approaching art patron.
"Hello, Charlotte. Long time no see." He was an awkward looking fellow. He was painfully thin and pale. He wore some kind of blue-ish wig that seemed to sparkle under the meticulous lighting of the gallery. If it weren't for the black Armani suit he had on one would mistake him for some diaphonous being from another realm. "Oh! Hello, Germaine! Yes it has been a while since we last saw each other." Charlotte quickly embraced him and pulled away back to me. "I must admit your latest work appears to be reaching towards something... familiar." Germaine wiped his brow with a bright purple handkerchief. "Oh? You really think so?" Charlotte appeared to take his words to heart.
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friend here?"
Germaine asked; his eyes displayed a silent fire within. "Oh I'm sorry.
Germaine this is Pike. Pike this is Germaine." "Pike is it?"
"Yes my name is Pike. Well, it's my given name at least." "Ha,
ha. Yes, I don't enjoy my given name either. I never did." He glanced back
and forth between me and the sketched me. "Oh so Germaine is not your
given name?" I asked. "Well it is and it isn't. If you know what I
mean." He winked at me then winked at Charlotte. He exhibited an almost flamboyant
"So is your work on display here, Germaine?" "No it is not. And I am glad it is not. Nothing could be more damaging to an artist's vision than having his work exhibited for all to gawk at and ridicule." "Really? Well I don't understand but I can imagine where you are coming from." I don't know why I said what I said but I believe Germaine had no trouble following along.
A young cocktail waitress passed by us in a flash but Germaine was
able to grab her by the elbow and retrieve two glasses of champagne from her
tray. He offered me one of them but I declined. He quickly inhaled both glasses
then smiled at Charlotte. It wasn't a smile with any hidden agenda.
"It was very nice to meet you, Pike. I am afraid I must depart from here due to prior obligations. But I trust I will run into you sometime in the near future." He shook my hand, smiled at Charlotte then waved goodbye. He glided out of the gallery at an abnormal speed. I never saw him again. Two months after that Charlotte told me that Germaine was arrested for possession of an illegal firearm. At his hearing the judge asked him what he planned on doing with it. His response was, "I want to annihilate all art!" He was sentenced to ten years without parole. A year into his sentence he hung himself in the prison showers. Apparently he had a friend burn all of his artwork before he was incarcerated so the only personal affects he left was a collection of vibrant, sparkly wigs.
Charlotte and I ended up dating for a year or so then eventually went our separate ways. To tell you the truth... I don't know what she saw in me. I'm not one to criticize myself nor do I want to. I just really believe that people like Charlotte exist to remind the rest of us what life is all about. You see, there is indeed a reason for everything. I say this not from a state of great spiritual clarity but from a state of pure unadulterated being. Not all of us are like Charlotte but we all have the potential to be.
I wish I could say that I was able to reignite the spark I originally had for Charlotte but no I cannot. I didn't know then but I know now that we were only meant to be together for a short period. Most people tend to believe that the best romances are the ones that last a lifetime, but not me. Nope. I say the best kinds are the ones that end just as quickly as they started.
Within each new day exists the potential for greatness. So live it up! You never know when you may find yourself enjoying a glorious day.
© 2012 siddhartha288
El Paso, TX
AboutI read and write and write and read. I intend to do so for the foreseeable future. more..