The final brush stroke…
she held her breath knowing what had seemed like a lifetime of creating would be culminated at this final pass of color. For a moment she heard a child laughing with glee as she pranced around the studio with her first paint brush from her grand pere. “I was so full of life, exuberance, potential then. I knew I would be a talented artist with many commissioning my work. I was too much the dreamer.”
A brush fell…
“What if this final mark on my years as an artist is a flop?” She turned as if speaking to stacks of blank and partly finished canvasses.
“You must” she spoke assuring the canvas that they must move forward.
What the art enthusiasts did not know is that she felt each painting would be her last. The beginning stages of applying gesso and sketching out her subject was like birth for her soul; the final touches But it was not the brush she had been using. Taking a lasting stroke with what she believed was a subtle cream ;she left a mark on her painting that would be talked about by historians and students for generations.
“The stroke of red made this a masterpiece”
“She knew the stroke of red would be like a crescendo in the art world.”
“It symbolized her heart failing her.”
“It was a dagger…”
They found her in a pool of red. In her glorious world of finished and unfinished creations.
Her final work had indeed been the most influential piece of her career.
Some day I will finish my life work which is a biographical fiction about my mother’s life. An artist who has made everything she touches a masterpiece. In her youth, she painted and made history.
This piece ” Final Stroke” is my creation for the letter “S ” in the month long A to Z writing challenge,