Emotional Connections

The Last Brush Stroke

DEDICATED TO MY ARTISTIC FRIEND SEASOFME

                                                            The emotion here is Loathing.

Joe stood in his back room, facing an artist's easel covered with a cloth. He knew he had to finish the wretched painting, but was loathe to do it. He lifted his hand to remove the cloth just as the door bell rang.

'Saved by the bell' he thought. He went along the corridor to find his sister Mary at the front door.

"Hi, Joe, are you okay?"

Joe nodded. She continued "I've come to see the painting before you deliver it."

In the back room Joe lifted the cloth and Mary stared at the painting.

"Wow! You're some artist!" Her eyes, like saucers scrutinised every inch of his work.

Joe shrugged. "I wish I'd never started the damn thing. I'd forgotten how much I hate it."

"But this is fantastic! How can you paint like this and hate it so much?"

Joe had often asked himself that very question.

Later that day he gave the last brush stroke to the painting. Picking up the brush he dipped it into the Vermilion red paint on his artist's palette. He applied the red colour to the chair, painted on the canvas, carefully brushing it in. He stepped back to admire his work and had to admit, even to himself, that it was fabulous.

This was now his last brush stroke, ever, and he sighed with the deepest relief. He had loathed every second he had worked on this painting and regretted every second spent away from his beloved carpentry work.

The painting would dry and then he could deliver it to Mr Allen who had commissioned a painting of his younger, attractive wife, taken from photographs of her standing. Joe had added in a red velvet chair for her to stand beside, against a backdrop of an open window with cream curtains, showing greenery from a garden in the background.

When the painting was ready, Joe delivered it to Mr Allen, who lived across town.

"Wow! That is remarkable." said Mr Allen. "You've captured her likeness so well.  My wife will be so surprised, she has no idea. I know we said Three hundred and fifty pounds, but I can't just pay that for this painting, it's worth double that much."

"No, a deals a deal." said Joe.

"No, I insist. I didn't expect it would be this good. This is exceptional work here, I'll give you seven hundred pounds. And don't be surprised if you get other orders, my friends will be very interested in you." Joe shuddered at the suggestion and hoped Mr Allen hadn't noticed.

So, with extra money in his pocket, Joe drove home with his heart singing, loudly. He now had extra money to re-furbish his kitchen. On arriving home, he packed up the easel and painting equipment and put them in the back of his cupboard.

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A few days later his sister Mary saw an advertisement in the local shop window.

Free to Collector, Artist's Easel and painting equipment.

508 words

This is based on truth. A friend's brother was a very accomplished artist.  He was a carpenter by trade and much preferred working with wood.  He was commissioned to do a painting (I don't now what it really was) and did a fantastic job, but hated every brush stroke!