It was her eyes that first made me want to paint her. Those beautiful dark pools. She often sits across from me with those eyes staring somewhere off into the distance, somewhere better that only she can see. It was those captivating eyes that inspired me to paint.
I knew I could never hope to capture her beauty with my limited skills, but she was worth trying for. My canvas and my oils were ready; all I needed was her and that daydream gaze. I could never ask her to pose for me; never tell her that her beauty inspired in me a love that I had never known. It would have to be a photograph, one perfect photograph to reflect one perfect beauty.
She didn’t see me take my perfect picture, which was just as well. It truly was perfect, her eyes were glinting ever so slightly and there was the smallest smile on her face, the kind of smile that says: I am content. I will treasure this photograph as child treasures their favourite toy. In the corner of my living room, my makeshift studio was ready with easel, canvas and paint, a sheet to keep the floor clean and that one perfect photograph.
I started work right away. The faintest of pencil lines to mark out her flawless features, the gentle curves of her lips, the slight downward curve of her adorable nose and those eyes. Those perfect eyes. It did not take me long to sketch out her face, though I am not certain if that is a good or bad thing. Then it was the hand that was resting ever so lightly on her creamy cinnamon cheek with her sleek glossy hair tumbling over it in dark elegant curls.
Paint came next. I started with her skin; I knew that my paint could never replicate her flawless complexion or the many subtle tones that make her so radiant. Small brush strokes and gentle shading proved the only way forwards, after hours of work she was starting to come alive. My painting was nothing compared to her absolute beauty, and the hardest part was yet to come. Those perfect eyes.
I was almost afraid to start work on her eyes, I was afraid that I could never do her justice. I started with the dark centre, with the smallest of glints in it. Then to the colour, deep chestnut with the smallest flecks of a lighter brown near the inner rim. Then with the fine brush every single one of her long curved eyelashes were added. The same brush with a small amount of black to create her subtle, minimalistic eyeliner. Her lips I left till last, their voluptuous curves; coral with a slight hint of rose. She personifies beauty.
She was finished. It was not the best painting in the world, far from it, and it could never be as fine a piece of art as she is. It could never even compare to her everlasting beauty, but it is her.
It was her eyes that first made me want to paint her. Those captivating eyes