The life class is over and I am washing my brushes, first the Nudes, Golds and Ochres, then the red of Carmine runs out the sink, is replaced with Prussian Blue sustained with Manganese Lemon, Payne’s Gray and now Green, the stained glass window effect in the white china basin, a streak of silky rainbow. The life class is lifting around me, people are leaving, while paint laden water spirals the drain. In another life we might be friends but this is a strain of delicate work and the sitter’s patience is exhausted, she wants to be gone like the light, not stopping to look at what our looking has achieved of her, she is still unclothed and the artists’ focus begins to waiver, catching a glimpse of her breasts in full blush, they stumble over easel and inkwell she raises a tired smile, like mother to child, and receives a scarlet chorus of farewell.
About the Author
Sarah Wallis is a poet & playwright based in Scotland. She has an MA in Creative Writing from UEA and an Mphil in Playwriting from Birmingham University. Recent work has appeared in Lunate, Idle Ink, Tiny Seed, Crepe & Penn, Selcouth Station and Finished Creatures. A monologue, A Stage of One’s Own streamed by Slackline Cyberstories during lockdown, was first performed at Leeds Lit Fest 2019. A chapbook, Medusa Retold, is due from Fly on the Wall Press Dec 2020.
