Page 74 of Romeo & Antoinette

“You don't know who you are?”

“Not yet. Do you?”

“I’ve got some idea. But no, not yet, not really. It’s hard to know who you are when you spend all your time studying to be something you’re not.” Then she put her drink down on the table, got up and walked back over to the stack of paintings.

Romeo drank her in as she walked away. She was stunningly beautiful for sure, but there was so much more to her than that. In her eyes he saw something special. Something real. A light so bright it could convince the birds that night was over and it was time to sing.

Ant flipped through the stack again. Then she turned her attention to the two that were on the wall. They were sister pieces that reflected two views of the same subject - an iron bridge. Romeo had painted the bridge from each side. One could conceivably look at both and envision the middle where they met.

“These are good,” she said.

“Think so?”

“I do. Same place, right?”

“Right. But from different sides.”

“And same time of day?”

“No. The left is sunrise and the right is sunset.”

She smiled. “Coo

l.” Then she reached up and touched one. She let her fingertips run lightly over the paint. She liked that it was real. Real in as much as you could touch it, you could feel it. You could experience it tactilely as well as visually.

Then she returned to him. She sat back down on the couch next to him.

“So, what’d you really think?” he asked.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“I think they’re good. I think you’ve got some real talent. You took something industrial and heavy and made it quiet and reflective. I love the way you used light and shadow and I thought using both morning and evening light, that kind of low, soft, magic hour light was a good choice.”

“But?”

“How’d you know there was a but?”

“I could just tell.”

“But, you’re painting the wrong things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you need a different subject. You need to paint something you care about.”

“I care.”

“You care about buildings? And bridges? And that? What’s that over there? A bowl of oranges? The only way you’re going to truly get in touch with your talent is to paint something you really care about.”

“You think so?”

“Trust me,” she said. “Neither of us is going to reach their full potential until we embrace what’s really important to us.” She paused to take stock in her own words. Then added, “Regardless of the consequences.”

“You might be right.”

“I am right.”

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