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A Paintbrush To Venice
There is something about water that allures her; which lead to her dream and later her decision to visit Venice.
Sitting in a gondola she looked around her. She took a deep breath, taking in everything that the gorgeous place had to offer. The picturesque buildings rose all around her, she saw bridges that reminded her of a long lost promise. A promise to someone who doesn't even exist in her world anymore. There was no place for remorse or guilt in her mind for she was mesmerized by the all engulfing charm of Venice.
She watched the water splatter against the gondola she was sitting on. She tried hard to see the bottom of the water but couldn't. The pictures of Venice had shown her the clear blue water that binds the soul of travellers in its spell. More than once she had felt that there is something magical in those waters, something mystical. She peered and peered and all of a sudden she saw a white glint at the bottom of the water. Her heart raced. She didn't know what she saw but she was sure it was something only meant for her to see.
She leaned forward, hoping to catch a better glimpse of it. Something celestial called her closer to the waters, she could feel it. Her vision blurred, she couldn't say if it was her tears or the water itself that was obstructing her vision. She blinked fast and tried hard to focus on that little glimmering thing.
She leaned over until she came face to face with herself. In her reflection she saw her own awestruck face and widened eyes. A face of her she has never seen before. She slowly tried to touch her reflection. Her breath stopped as she saw it transform to a serene demeanor. In the place of her curled up fingers on the water, she saw a phantomic hand rising slowly up from deep beyond. A familiar hand with some much too familiar fingers and on one of those fingers she saw a brilliant white stoned ring, the glint of which she saw moments before. The ring brought back to her some memories long forgotten.
She sat bewitched when the hand rose up to caress her face. She felt cold but oddly peaceful. She tasted melancholy but she felt home. She wanted to wail but she was euphoric. Then, she saw the lips on her mirrored face move as she heard a silvery voice inside her head say "You will be here, you will be with me, you will, one day".
Was it the spirit of Venice? Was it herself? Or was it the person she once lost but never recovered from? She didn't know.
Her eyes welled up and she averted her gaze. She stumbled back into reality. Her eyes rested on the auburn wall next to her. The wall was adorned by her paintings red, blue and so on. Paintings of places known and unknown to her. Places she travelled to, through her paintbrush and canvas to escape from her never ending pain. She turned her head and gazed longingly back to the painting of Venice she was working on. She looked at the paintbrush she was holding. A blob of white paint still remained fresh on it. She thought against it and dipped the brush in the water next to her, by doing so, hoping to forget again those feelings that she once repressed. The white paint kept spiralling in the water and she never looked.
She pursed her lips and tightened her headscarf. She took her palette in hand and kept painting. She gave life to the blue hued canals ever so holy; the Gothic buildings aging beautifully; the pale pink evening sky with clouds; the street lights like some glittering suns; churches and bridges; wine bottles and dishes; she didn't stop. She summoned the breathtaking beauty of Venice into her painting, all the while whispering "One day, one day, one day...."
.
.
@fernweh
#lgbtq
© Chintha
Sitting in a gondola she looked around her. She took a deep breath, taking in everything that the gorgeous place had to offer. The picturesque buildings rose all around her, she saw bridges that reminded her of a long lost promise. A promise to someone who doesn't even exist in her world anymore. There was no place for remorse or guilt in her mind for she was mesmerized by the all engulfing charm of Venice.
She watched the water splatter against the gondola she was sitting on. She tried hard to see the bottom of the water but couldn't. The pictures of Venice had shown her the clear blue water that binds the soul of travellers in its spell. More than once she had felt that there is something magical in those waters, something mystical. She peered and peered and all of a sudden she saw a white glint at the bottom of the water. Her heart raced. She didn't know what she saw but she was sure it was something only meant for her to see.
She leaned forward, hoping to catch a better glimpse of it. Something celestial called her closer to the waters, she could feel it. Her vision blurred, she couldn't say if it was her tears or the water itself that was obstructing her vision. She blinked fast and tried hard to focus on that little glimmering thing.
She leaned over until she came face to face with herself. In her reflection she saw her own awestruck face and widened eyes. A face of her she has never seen before. She slowly tried to touch her reflection. Her breath stopped as she saw it transform to a serene demeanor. In the place of her curled up fingers on the water, she saw a phantomic hand rising slowly up from deep beyond. A familiar hand with some much too familiar fingers and on one of those fingers she saw a brilliant white stoned ring, the glint of which she saw moments before. The ring brought back to her some memories long forgotten.
She sat bewitched when the hand rose up to caress her face. She felt cold but oddly peaceful. She tasted melancholy but she felt home. She wanted to wail but she was euphoric. Then, she saw the lips on her mirrored face move as she heard a silvery voice inside her head say "You will be here, you will be with me, you will, one day".
Was it the spirit of Venice? Was it herself? Or was it the person she once lost but never recovered from? She didn't know.
Her eyes welled up and she averted her gaze. She stumbled back into reality. Her eyes rested on the auburn wall next to her. The wall was adorned by her paintings red, blue and so on. Paintings of places known and unknown to her. Places she travelled to, through her paintbrush and canvas to escape from her never ending pain. She turned her head and gazed longingly back to the painting of Venice she was working on. She looked at the paintbrush she was holding. A blob of white paint still remained fresh on it. She thought against it and dipped the brush in the water next to her, by doing so, hoping to forget again those feelings that she once repressed. The white paint kept spiralling in the water and she never looked.
She pursed her lips and tightened her headscarf. She took her palette in hand and kept painting. She gave life to the blue hued canals ever so holy; the Gothic buildings aging beautifully; the pale pink evening sky with clouds; the street lights like some glittering suns; churches and bridges; wine bottles and dishes; she didn't stop. She summoned the breathtaking beauty of Venice into her painting, all the while whispering "One day, one day, one day...."
.
.
@fernweh
#lgbtq
© Chintha
