Page 9 of The Artist

“You don’t have to do that.You’re giving my gallery a new life with your painting.That more than makes up for any food you eat.”She stood.“If you don’t need anything, I’m headed to bed.”

“What about the fire?”

“You don’t need to worry about it.I’ll close the glass doors in front of it and then I’ll let it burn down during the night.”She stopped and thought for a minute.“But then again, I don’t usually have overnight visitors.I’ll put another log on it.It should last most of the night.”She half smiled.“Jim wouldn’t like it but I hate to be cold, that’s why there’s so much wood on the porch.Which reminds me that I need to check the tarp and make sure it’s secure.Wet wood doesn’t burn…at least, not well.”

Turning, she retrieved her coat, hat, gloves, and boots.After donning everything, she went outside and checked the tarp.It was loose on one side.Her fault for not securing it properly when Peter arrived.After tying it down again, she walked back inside.Stamping her feet to remove most of the snow, she slipped off her boots and left them by the door.

“What’s it like outside?”Peter spoke moving to look out a window.

She placed her gloves in her parka’s pockets and hung the coat on one of the hooks along the wall by the door, then she dropped her stocking cap in the hood of the coat.“It’s crazy cold and blizzard conditions.If the weather report is to be believed we have another full day of this, then probably another three or four before the people I hired get to me and clear the road.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.I’m sorry.I don’t mean to be a burden to you.”

She’d planned on heading to bed, but going outside had revived her.She sat again on the sofa from him and waved her hand, dismissing his words.“I don’t feel like I’m stuck with you.I think I’m incredibility lucky to have you all to myself for a few days.I can watch you paint and learn what I need to do.”

He laughed as he painted.“That’s easy.You need to believe in yourself and let it show in your paintings.Your tentative brush strokes are your downfall.Your paintings could be great if you were surer of yourself.Your brush strokes show that you don’t believe in what you’re painting, like it’s not your choice to paint.Is that true, are they for someone else or for you?Either way, you’d be much happier with them with strong feelings about the painting.Find something you feel that way about and then paint that.”

Alexis considered what he said for a moment.“Do you really think so?Just by changing my brush stroke?”

“Yes, I do.Let me show you.Stand in front of the easel and start painting canvas there.You’ll paint the entire canvas black.”

Eyes wide she turned to face him.“What?That’s crazy.”

“Trust me.Come on.”He stood and extended a hand.

She took it and felt flames travel up her arm.Surprised and alarmed, her wide eyes met his.

He swallowed hard but pulled her up.

As soon as she was standing, she dropped his hand.The burning sensation ended.What was that?Why do I feel so drawn to him that our touch burned hot?Something is not right.She walked to the easel.

He got the canvas she’d brought out and set it on the easel.“Okay, get your black paint and start.I want to see your brushstrokes.Don’t think about it, just paint as you normally would.”

She shook her head.“I don’t think I can with you watching me.”

“How did you do it when you took your art classes?You had to paint then, didn’t you?”

Alexis shrugged.“Well, yes, but?—”

“This is no different.I am your teacher, and you have to paint in front of me, so dip the brush and go.”

She squeezed a gob of black acrylic paint onto her palette.Then dipped her large, flat brush into the paint, coating it thoroughly.Starting in the upper left corner she stroked the brush from the top to the left edge and then back toward the right, at an angle and kept going.

“Press harder.Stroke the paint on like you mean it and thickly cover the canvas with the paint.”

“But—”I don’t understand what he’s doing or what difference the brush strokes make if we’re just painting the canvas black.

“No buts.”He walked behind her and took her right hand with his and stroked across the canvas.The strokes were bold, meaningful.“See?See the difference that makes in the painting?You’re just giving it a base for the rest, but you still need to make the strokes forceful.”

“Yes.I see.”She saw the glistening brush strokes in the paint.

“And all we’re doing now is covering it with black.Imagine what we will do when you start adding color and more texture to it.”

Alexis looked over her shoulder and grinned.“I can’t wait.”