color-blind

There is an art to the painting of portraiture.

The subject stands before you, stark and real and authentic.

You have sought her out for just this moment; it took a year to find the right one.

But you did, and you are as sure of this as anything you have ever created.

You pose her as you have seen her in your mind’s eye.

In a fever-dream of envisioning the finished work, you begin.

There is the pencil sketch, as you fill in, erase, start over.