Jenaya Ramadge The Artist Short Story

Jenaya Ramadge

The Artist Short Story

As the artist steps into the harsh white, studio light, she prepares her canvas. The unfathomable ideas, visions and creations begin to rush into her overwhelmed mind. Brush now at the ready, she takes a deep, shaky breath and waits for the paint to start flowing. Oh, but where to begin? Perhaps with the concept of “beauty is pain”. She had been told this saying before she was old enough to even pick up a paint brush. Pain: it’s quite raw and miserable, but she set out on a seemingly impossible mission to paint pain as beautiful. Beauty, of course, is quite subjective. As the first brushstroke cautiously grazes the surface of her canvas she lets out a relieved sigh, the first stroke was always the hardest. To her audience, her paintings were created with the intent to emphasise a desire for attention. But to her, art feels necessary to survive yet another day. She begins to tear through the canvas. Avoiding ramifications and judgements isn’t the number one priority anymore as her ideas begin to pour out, put on display for the public. Seconds turn to minutes, then to hours, what feels like forever. Now out of breath, the canvas completely filled, her paint brush slips through her fingers and hits the floor as she steps back to admire her masterpiece in the mirror. She hardly recognises her subject matter anymore. The image of red paint splattered all over her once clean canvas stains her mind. Pre-emptive about the next time she will step back into that harsh bathroom light she unlocks the door and steps out into reality. Was her pain ever really beautiful?