Image by Francesca Woodman
"How long do I have to do this?" she complained.
"Keep still!" he growled.
"No, seriously, you're not paying me enough to lay on this cold floor, wrapped like a piece of meat in butcher's paper, with this stupid shell digging into my ribs! You said it would be fun to model for you. This is not fun and I'm freezing."
"Just give me another hour and I'll have everything drawn out," he murmured, focused on the canvas in front of him.
"Five minutes," she snapped, glaring at him. "And don't forget what you promised me."
"Hmm?" He wished she would quit distracting him. Why had he thought she would be a good model? She never stopped talking, complaining, demanding.
"Fame! You said I would be immortalized in your painting."
He barked out a laugh, and wondered how irritated she was going to be when she discovered he was an abstract artist, and her face wasn't necessary to his vision. In fact, he was leaving out her entire head.
With a wide grin, he ignored her grousing, entertained by the thought.
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The prompt this week for Magpie Tales 130 was an odd one, at least to me. What is this woman doing? Her nipples imply she's cold...really cold. That was my clue, this is the story.
Francesca found her fame - thanks to no photographer but herself.
ReplyDeleteOh this is a great lively twist for our lady of the week, Francesca!
ReplyDelete"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?".
ReplyDeleteSuffering for her art. It reminded me of Lizzie Siddall complaining to Rosetti when she had to lie in bath of water as a model for Ophelia.
ReplyDelete