"I painted a portrait of you from a photo in a dark room. You were sitting in front of a window, light obstructed by cheap venetian blinds. You had a cigarette in the hand that held your forehead and a subtle pain in your eye that I recognized as grief but maybe it was just a migraine."
"Both can make you wonder if any of this is worth it. It's a beautiful photo. The painting turned out okay. I have used a few photos of yours to create art that would never be seen because of the shitty shame I felt ... feel?"
"I'm getting over it for sure because fuck it! I'm leaving this state of being that asks me to fit neatly in and seeking out a better understanding of myself and what I want from the short fleeting moments we have in this world."
"I believe that is what you want as well. Lets share our moments without shame. And be friendly weird people who just fucked it up a bit. ...I'd still like to kiss you."
The narrator reflects on their journey of creating a portrait from a photograph that captures a moment of vulnerability. They explore emotions tied to grief and self-acceptance, acknowledging former shame associated with their art. As they shed this shame, they express a desire to embrace authenticity and meaningful connections without fear of judgement. The narratorâs sentiments emphasize the importance of living fully in fleeting moments, while also hinting at a lingering affection for the subject of the painting.
Read at Portland Mercury
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