My interlude with an artist...

When i was a girl i was very romantic. My love of art grew as i learnt about Van Gogh, Monet, et al. I was young and naive, I yearned for the tortured love of an artist and his muse.

It has been a fantasy of mine to be a muse for a great artist, and although i didnt achieve a great love affair with an artist...i think i managed to capture his heart for a moment just yesterday.

It wasnt intended...i only wanted to browse and see some of the artists at work, perhaps pick up a few techniques...and more so, to nab some inspiration from the artists at the "Art on the Rocks" festival.

Sunday was a beautiful day...the sun was out, i was looking a touch bohemianesque, armed with my rose tinted frames and my nano plugged and playing my choice with what was "On the go"...

I started on the end near the MCA, it was early and the artists were only starting...some were still sitting around waiting for inspiration or perhaps for their coffee to kick in. Some sat drawing sketches...while others were finishing what they had started on Saturday.

I had made my way to a green patch and an artist was just starting something fresh...it had a boy and a girl in the centre, you could tell by their hair. Their heads side by side...he then drew their bodies, making it look connected as one with just a simple stroke shared between the two.

I was standing on his left and at this point i shifted to his right, as no one was standing there and i could see the whole painting.

As the figures in the middle became complete, a smile was drawn on my face, i felt the tug of the corners of my mouth. What he was doing was magical. Each stroke seemed continuous...he would finish each component before taking the brush off the paper. His hand strokes were fluid and confident. I admired his talent. It was simple, he made my heart do flips. It somersaulted each time he added to the painting. The smile on my face grew as the painting grew.

In the middle of all of this, he had turned to his right and saw me smiling. I was still hiding behind my huge frames, but i could feel the smile stretched across my face. He smiled at me and turned back to his work.

When he was done with the painting he walked over to me. I told him how lovely it was, that i really liked the piece of work. I gushed about how fluid his movements were, that it was simply divine. He advised me that it was fluid because of what he was using to paint with, a Chinese calligraphy brush with chinese ink. He said that he was happy to see me enjoy it so much. I then did something that to me felt inappropriate (but I wanted it so much), I asked him how I could get myself a copy of that particular work?

He said that I could buy it from him. I told him that I had never purchased a piece of art, but what he just did made me feel so happy. He told me that he will tell me what he would like as payment and i then can tell him what i was willing to pay. Due to the circumstance that it is a festival and he is painting outdoors, that the material isnt expensive he wouldnt mind $50 or a bottle of wine. Keeping in mind that he sells in a gallery and often something like this would be a few hundred dollars.

I was blatantly honest with him, that i didnt plan on coming out to purchase anything expensive. That this was just a stop before i went to check out some clothes at a vintage clothing store in Surry Hills. So, I could only offer him $20.

He told me i could have it for $20. And i think he made me smile even bigger than i had been before.

He clapsed my right hand between the two of his and airkissed me, cheek to cheek.

I was thrilled. I was enarmored. I was in love. Not with him (well maybe a little due to his talent), but with his painting...well, now my painting!

In all of the excitement, i forgot to ask his name. He told me and i exchanged with mine. He then advised that it would take about 10 minutes to dry, so I should go walk around and come back in 10. I told him that i would go and check the other artists and be back some time later.

I walked around and ended up watching Michael Muir do a landscape. He was painting with just a palette knife. I loved the thick texture of his work. We spoke a lot and i often floated by his spot every 20-30 minutes or so to see his progression. We were talking at the first of my pitstops at his spot and told him about the purchase i had made earlier on. He said that that was so cool that i felt that way about a piece of work and that i was able to purchase it. Although, he thought that with the festival, the pieces werent allowed to be sold. I offered that maybe the artist just couldnt refuse me? heheheh...what artist wouldnt be stoked that someone loved their work so much that they wanted it then and there???

After that chat with Michael and feeling oh so good with what i was able to acquire, that i technically shouldnt have been able to, which made it feel all the more special...i went back to pick up my piece from the artist.

I love a gentleman. And this artist was just that. When i got back to where he was, he was surrounded by family &/or friends. He seemed so happy and relaxed. And the moment he saw me, he swiftly excused himself and made his way to me. The painting was already rolled up and secured. He handed it over to me, I paid him the $20 that was due and I thanked him ever so much for it.

I walked past a table he had set up with his guest book, business cards and some news article clippings about his work. I took a quick glimpse and noticed how "up and coming" an artist he is. I decided that i would sign in his guest book, just a simple message to show my appreciation.

Artist,

Thank you so much for my painting!

Petals.

I didnt want to ignite any fanciful affair with the artist. I know i could have left my name & number or even my email, but I just wanted to leave him with a thank you to remind him that he has a fan. That someone loved his work so much that she had to have it! It was a big stroke to his ego...I didnt mind giving it...because at the end of the day, he gave me something so special that i really didnt think money could buy.

He made me smile. He made me smile from within. The last time i had felt this happy was when my ex told me how much he loved me...

But my heart sang as he painted that picture. It may be simply black ink on paper, but it makes me feel like im in love. I really appreciate the fact that he is European but he used an Asian medium to produce it. In my mind, the fluidity has been meshed with something lyrical and the memory of him painting my piece is priceless.

I will never forget the day that the sun shone so bright.
I will never forget the jazz music in the background.
I will never forget that some are true gentlemen.
I will never forget the day that i smiled so wide.
I will never forget the day that my heart sang out loud.
I will never forget the conversations i had with Michael.
I will never forget how simple lines can create something so beautiful.
I will never forget the artist who brought back love and passion into my heart.