Art Explained By A Writer: Maidens at the Headlands (1895)
Diary, Let me admit something...
My god, what was it he brought home? A splintered fossil with one oar. I laughed after I left the room to take the baby. How happy he looked, he can't even swim. You know what, Diary, the baby didn't cry for a change as he said its name. It's time for a change, do you hear it too? There's something in the air.
9 am
I had a look at the river two days earlier. There was a woman, and a cat followed her. I can be mistaken, but she calls him Devil. He looked familiar, but she didn't. I hid behind the bushes and flipped the coin for the boatman before I pressed it in the baby's fist. I miss home, is this my destiny?
I noticed he only paints me from one side. It's not because I became fat after giving birth, although I know the girls keep gossiping and they are hunting for him, the stupid she,p what do they know, they will all end up miserable.
The birthmark on my thigh suddenly curls like a question mark. I never had it before. Where did it come from? It must be a sign from the gods. If you ignore your dreams, they’ll find another way to speak.
The baby is interested in brushes. She chews on them.
10:25 am
Today, I baked his favourite cake, stirred the batter, spat in it, and left it on the rock where he pretends to paint. I can’t remember the last time he touched the canvas or my heart. As he kissed me, he tasted like turpentine. Does he drink the stuff to pretend he washes the brushes?
Those women keep laughing, such a brainless fools. I would laugh to smash their heads against a tree.
No coat needed, he said. For once, he was right. The sun is warm. I hope the baby doesn’t catch a cold. It’ll be a while before we arrive home. He didn’t notice I took two coins: one for me, one for the baby. When he pushes us off, I’ll kick my shoes into the water. Let him dive for them, that is if he dares. I can’t help but grin. His masterpiece won’t look like he imagined. He’ll go back to those sheep, paint them and drown in misery.
P.S. Out of paper and pens. The grocery list will do. Every departure needs a remarkable message.
Note to the one without inspiration:
The truth? I’ve always known how to swim. That day at the river, when you turned to “capture the light,” I let you believe I was drowning. I watched from below as you sketched ripples instead of saving me. Your pencil moved faster than your feet. That’s the moment when I understood.
By the way: The boatman also trades in unfinished things, the baby cries at foul play, and a boat is the one thing you’ll never paint well.
P.S. Your paint tubes are empty. I used the last of your cadmium red to write this, no way I would spill my blood on leaving you a message.
This Story continues here
27.3.25
Painting: Maidens at the Headlands (1895)
Painter: Pekka Halonen
Contest by @solperez
Prompt: Let me admit something - @freewritehouse
🤖 @wakeupkitty - fantastic contribution as always! ✨ 🚀
Hey friend! cur8 has a new front end in the works! 🚀 It's still a work in progress, but I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😊 View your post here ✨
you congratulate @solperez with what I wrote? That sounds a bit odd @luciojolly
Jajaja. A mí también me pareció raro, jeje.
This time, my bot really screwed up. I’m truly sorry.
Me encantó leerte. Un abrazo.
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2. Plagiarisme Checker: https://smallseotools.com/plagiarism-checker/
3. AI Content Detector: Corrector App, OpenAI/, CopyLeaks
Women look at each other and make fun of them, but if I were a woman I would NOT give importance to other women, the time I waste on others and in fact on other people is my time that I am wasting. If people thought more about themselves and being happy, they would realize that time is so valuable and that savoring it slowly like a candy is the best thing we should do, deaf ears to others is one of the keys to life, only oneself is important, the rest is the rest.
The main problem is that we are raised to always give, give, give and it's not allowed to spend time with yourself; if you do that, you are selfish. Look at 2 year old children, they are punished if they like to play alone with their toy, they are forced to share and if they rather play alone they are called weird.
The result is that everyone is afraid to be left out and most are not able to spend time alone and next they visit doctors as an adult telling them to be more selfish and if not they will never feel happy.
If it wouldn't be so sad it would be a joke.
You are right if you want to feel happy you should learn to spend qualitime time with yourself.
A happy Monday!
another diary, part of a creepy story? Are we still into critics? If yes, I have a remark: first lines "change". Is this a follow-up, a link to the next, or and earlier storythat would come at hand. I wonder where she's heading to with the child or is this a wild dream of the painter? It's good there's a painting, no need to draw anything.
#comment and #wewrite
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You are right. It's a story in episodes. I should have done it earlier but I added the what happened earlier and after this one to the post. It will help me too. Thanks a lot for your help!
Eres lo mejor de lo mejor. Recuerda cumplir con las condiciones de las etiquetas steemexclusive y club75.