Wherever that may be

Arc III (2) - 1720

The artist sees her painting evolving with pleasure.

She's content with the traces, the colors, the textures. She feels full, all the time, like in a dream.

Elizabeth and Jennifer talk.

They do so quietly, so as not to disturb the painting process.

They discuss art, culture, and politics, and sometimes they derive to neutral topics like the weather.

One day, Jennifer speaks with her voice tinted by insecurity.

"I'm not sure about the result of the portrait. Not because of your skills, of course, but because of...well... my face".

Elizabeth takes her eyes off her work and looks at the shortest girl with a shaking intensity.

"You are perfect", she answers simply.

Jennifer is left speechless.

"Your eyes are sharp, fierce", Elizabeth continues, her voice velvety as she begins to paint traces once again, "your nose is small and delicate. Your cupid's bow is deep, inviting, and your mouth is rich and lively. Then, your cheeks, prominent, giving a sense of innocence that contrasts with the cut of your cheekbones. There is nothing not to like about your face. I'm not painting you like a goddess. I'm painting you, and you look like a goddess".

The shortest girl blinks away the tears in her eyes as she keeps her hands from shaking.

When she catches her breath again, the warm feeling blooming in her heart is still there.

"Thank you, Liz. You are... like a dream".

Elizabeth smiles, feeling accomplished.

She can't even complain about her new nickname.

-

One day, however, a week and a half into her portrait, Elizabeth can't paint.

She's stuck again in a lack of inspiration, despite the constant buzzing in the pad of her fingers.

The scenery is there, just in front of her eyes, and she can almost outline every feature needed in her head.

But as she puts the brush closer to the canvas, everything fades away.

She is left huffing lightly, then, with an annoyed expression under Jennifer's perplex state.

"Everything alright?", the shortest girl asks. She's been in the same position for twenty minutes, but Elizabeth hasn't painted a single line since.

The tallest girl fights the urge of pouting.

"No. I'm... stuck".

Jennifer allows herself to sit straight in the armchair.

"Is it... am I doing something wrong?"

"No!", Elizabeth explains quickly, "it's just... It happens sometimes. I can't come up with anything good. I'm shitty like that".

Jennifer frowns.

"You are not shitty, Liz. You have been painting non-stop for days. You probably need to rest for a while".

Elizabeth runs her hand against her face.

"Yes, you are right, I'll probably-"

"Do you want a glass of wine?"

The tallest girl stares at Jennifer in slight surprise. She's gazing back at her calmly, her body resting against the back of the armchair.

"Oh... I-sure".