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He got engaged after living for 16 years with somone that did not mind using his money for her own enrichment, but would not give up her other pleasures. She told him that another was going to take his place and placed all his things outside the door.

He lived pennyless for a long time over this period, and though during this time I think he did some of his best work, many sadly were lost.

I once asked him why he did't put another one in that thick frame.

He told me that on the night he painted it, it reminded him of her. He didn't need that reminder, and as he had been using candle light in the shed where he had just finished it, dripped candle wax over the paint then set it alight. Then he reached for a drink to toast the flames and had a better idea. He put the painting back on the easle, and did the other side. When I asked him why, he said that both her and the many lovers she had had, be inside one frame where her memories of them would be like nightmares brought by a desert wind. That wind should blow to the place where the heart is, and fan the fire of her guilt.

What if she trys to put it out? I asked. and he said " She cant, this painting is different, anyway have look at the bottom, all she has to do is say sorry, but by then I may be out of reach.

Over time he told me the stories about each one, and said they where like bookmarks.

I'll not put in comments about them all, otherwise he will call me when he gets a chance to get to an online terminal, and call me to remove the ones he did not include when he sent them in. I will to your imaginations the rest.

I think of these words from a song somtimes
when I look at this one

Was it a huntsman or a player
That made you pay the cost
That now assumes relaxed positions
And prostitutes your loss?

Were you tortured by your own thirst
In those pleasures that you seek
That made you so the curious
That makes you so the weak?

And you claim you got something going
Something you call unique
But I've seen your self-pity showing
And the tears rolled down your cheeks.

Soon you know I'll leave you
And I'll never look behind
'Cos I was born for the purpose
That crucifies your mind.
So con, convince your mirror
As you've always done before
Giving substance to shadows
Giving substance ever more.

And you assume you got something to offer
Secrets shiny and new
But how much of you is repetition
That you didn't whisper to him too.

Slide show is to the right, view small or full screen, you can pause if you wish.

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