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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Art (01/18/07)
The Eye Of The Beholder

Between the two windows on the east wall, an oil painting caught the eye of everyone who entered the room. This was certainly no ordinary portrait. And it hung in an equally unusual setting. These nursing-home quarters barely had space for two beds, two chests of drawers and two desks. The huge painting filled its place on the wall from top to bottom and from side to side. But more than its size struck the viewer.

The woman in the portrait wore a dark taffeta gown that matched her hair and eyes. She had to be bigger than life size, and I couldn't take my eyes off her face. It was those eyes. Eyes looked back at me as if they were alive. If I moved, they followed me. I couldn't escape them and I was riveted in place as if a chain linked my eyes with hers.

"My husband painted that." A slight touch on my elbow startled me and tore my eyes from the portrait just long enough to acknowledge the fragile-looking woman at my side. "Of course, I was much younger, then."

She chuckled, recalling years long gone. "It was in the old country. We were still sweethearts when he did this painting." Together, the old woman and I stood, side by side, looking up at this remarkable work of art.

"I've never seen anything like this in all my life. Your husband must have been a famous artist." I'm sure the woman recognized the awe in my voice.

"Actually," she replied, "he never sold a single painting."

I turned to stare at her. "You're kidding!" I stopped, cold. Stunned, I was looking into the same glowing brown eyes as those in the painting.

"Oh, it isn't that he didn't want to be able to make a living as an artist. His sketch book was full of faces, many of them mine. But, his father needed his help with the farm work, and he was a good son. He did give some of his paintings as gifts to family and friends. The rest I couldn't bear to part with, especially after he was gone."

My eyes went back to the portrait. "How did he paint those eyes like that? They seem to be looking right at me, and they follow me when I move from right to left and back again. It's as if they're alive. I can't get over it!"

"Well, you see, we were so much in love." Her voice grew even softer, and more distant, as if she had slipped back in time to her youth. "Of course, we couldn't take our eyes off each other. It was such a joy, posing for him. I could fill my eyes with his presence, watching him work. He was so much more than just handsome. He was just.....wonderful."

I turned to see tears on her cheek glistening in the morning sun. Gently, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "That is such a beautiful story, sweetheart. What a blessing you had, finding such a love. You know, not everyone gets a chance like that in a whole life time."

The old woman with the beautiful eyes looked up at me. "I know that, dearie. God gave me a brief glimpse of His own glory in the few years my Nels and I had together." She reached into her pocket for a handkerchief. "It wasn't long, but it was deep enough to last me all these ninety-one years."

As I reluctantly left the room to return to my duties, I took one last glance at the eyes that followed me to the door. My thoughts settled on the gifted artist. It had to be the love of the man for his subject that created such a tribute. Evidence of that bond still burned with enough power to touch a stranger long years after the paint was dry.
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This article has been read 1458 times
Member Comments
Member
Date
Tabiatha Tallent
01/25/07
This was a beautiful story. Very powerful to me. It made me WANT to see the painting!
Verna Cole Mitchell 
01/25/07
This was a really sweet story. I loved the old lady you created.
william price
01/27/07
Oh my, my. What a grand story. So sweet, smooth, sincere and elegant. The artist did a masterful job in capturing his wife's love for him, whose eyes reflect the love he has for her. I'm sure it stirred thoughts in the narrtor's mind if such a love existed for him or her. It would kind of be like reading the Bible where we see the Love the writers had for God in their Holy Ghost inspired descriptions of His love for us. Far excellent entry. Anointed. God bless.
Christine Dunn
01/28/07
A beautiful story. Very well written.
Laurie Glass 
01/28/07
I so enjoyed this. I, too, would love to see the picture. And what a beautiful love story - touched my heart.
Betty Castleberry
01/29/07
I *adore* stories about the elderly, their lives, loves, and experinces, so this was a joy for me to read. It's tender and very well written, too. Thumbs up.
Joanne Sher 
01/29/07
Beautiful, beautiful description. A wonderfully sweet telling of love for the ages. Just charming.
Pat Guy
01/29/07
An engaging encouter of memories and love. Truly beautiful. Well done.
Marilyn Schnepp 
01/30/07
I, too, reached into my pocket for a handkerchief. Beautiful story, great take on the topic Art - and very well written. Beautifully done.
Jan Ackerson
01/30/07
I was so touched by this--anyone might think this man would be bitter for not having sold any paintings, but he had a great gift in the love of his life.
Joanney Uthe 
01/30/07
What a touching, well-written story! I could hear the love in the old woman's words. You do an excellent job of discribing a painting that I felt like I was looking at it myself.
Steve Uppendahl
02/01/07
Once again, Edy, you rock the house. Outstanding description throughout, not just visual description either. You set the scene between the two women, as well as the love between husband and wife.

Wonderful last line, btw. You paint quite the picture yourself. I can't believe this didn't place. Great, great job.
Mariane Holbrook
02/07/07
I felt like I should whisper goodbye and tiptoe out after reading this wonderful piece.
You described a hallowed room, drenched in love by an artist who sacrificed and set aside his own ambition to do what was expected of him--farm work. Somehow, I feel,dearheart, that the corridors of heaven will be lined with artwork such as you have described,unknown here on earth but preserved for all eternity for saints to enjoy. What sensitive but masterful writing. I'm so glad I found you.