Wednesday's Three Word Wednesday

The words over at Three Word Wednesday are abrupt, kernel and wield.



Appreciation

There’s no bench in front of the Pollock, so she sits on the thin, gray carpet covering the floor, legs sprawled out toward the canvas, her arms a double kick-stand behind her back. He notices that her wrists have gone white without a steady flow of blood.
Her expression isn’t one of awe, more scowl than appreciation, he thinks. Waves of emotion move across her face, a canvas of swirling emotion.
He stands slightly behind to her right, wanting to soak in Jackson Pollock’s sweeping work, a canvas measuring 8-foot, 9-inches by 17-feet, 3-inches in which Pollock wielded sticks, knives and a turkey baster to create an image that is continuously on the move.
She’s centered on the painting, her black, knee-length boots nearly touching the gray cord warning patrons they’ve gotten too close. When she stretches her toes, which she does often as the expressions vary across her face, the boots nearly strum the cord, as if to pluck a single guitar string.
Impatient, he taps a toe of his Converse All-Stars and pleads with his eyes toward the ever-watchful docent, dressed in her blue blazer and maroon scarf. She can only shrug her shoulders and smile, weakly.
There’s only one place to be when looking at Autumn Rhythm No. 30. He knows this. It’s from a standing position at it’s center, left foot slightly in front of the right with arms crossed at the chest. In that position, it allows his peripheral vision to swirl messages to the brain.
It is this kernel of truth now ruined by this vulgar woman stretched out on the floor.
Sniffing deeply, he moves back a step, centers himself on the Pollock, closes his eyes. Breathing deep, with a certain sense of purpose, he opens his eyes.
And looks down at the woman, who now has her head tilted back, looking at him, a strange smile on her face.
“Excuse me, but you’re kinda creeping me out back there,” she says. “I mean, you’re practically standing right on top of me.”
Cheeks flush, he’s at a loss for what to say. She smiles, tilts her head, sending her dirty-blond ponytail swishing across the black leather of her jacket.
Collecting himself, he flips his sport coat back, places his hands on his hips, defiant.
“Excuse me, but you’re flopped out in front of my favorite painting in the world like a dead fish,” he says. “Plopped on the floor like a bored third-grader. It’s annoying.”
Bending at the torso, she rubs her wrists quickly, brings her feet toward her ass and stands abruptly.
She’s much taller than he’s even considered, close to 6-feet, and looks him in the eyes with pursed, red lips.
She tilts an eyebrow.
Hands now on his shoulders, she moves around him close, her front to his back. He trembles slightly.
“Down,” she says, gently putting pressure on his shoulders.
He sits, centered on the painting, his legs sprawled to the canvas, his All-Stars nearly touching the rope. To steady himself, he puts his arms behind him.
Pollock’s swirl of acrylic paint dances across his eyes, flooding his brain with messages. Waves of emotion sail across his face. A tear falls.
Kneeling behind him, pale hands on shoulders, she leans in to his neck, a lover’s move, and whispers.
“Let’s just keep this all for ourselves, shall we?”

28 comments:

Jeni Mc said...

Love. It.

pia said...

I read this several times. loved the description and the sparse dialogue--especially his. Very vivid. Felt as if I were there
Thank you :0

susansonnenmuses said...

I enjoyed this so much that I'm bookmarking it for future reference. :D

jaerose said...

I loved how you were never quite sure who was in control here..and that they eventually came 'together' even if they were slightly repelled by each other..came alive perfectly..Jae

Wysteria said...

Oh I loved this. Going to come back and read it again with another cup of joe.

Thanks for stopping by my blog too!


I love NY


Wysteria

She Means Well... said...

Thanks for this. I really, really enjoyed reading it.

That is all...

Witless Exposition said...

Such a great job! Loved the touches: double kick stand, his stance that is the "right" one, strumming the cord. Great!

Every time I go to a museum, I have to explain the appeal of modern art to the husband.

He still doesn't "get" it or understand why I can stand in front of a painting for such a long time. You captured it perfectly!

Linda Jacobs said...

I like how you create the tension between them; it's like sparks and the painting portrays that! Very clever!

Sumit Sarkar said...

Beautiful imagination and very well described... :)

Hooterville Mayor said...

We can ever learn, can't we?
Love it Thom.

Michael Solender said...

love the line with the wrist gone white..pitch perfect voice here..nice.

Dee Martin said...

love the shift at the end - he starts so cool and sure of himself and then she pulls the rug out from under him. It really is all about perspective :) - awesome write. You are getting better and better!

authorwho said...

This was great! Did not expect the ending. :)

J.A. O'Sullivan said...

Thom, the end caught me by surprise, and made my night. Thanks.

Deborah said...

I LOVE your writing, simply brilliant!!

Ramesh Sood said...

Ah, You write so well.. great..

Marisa Birns said...

Love the picture you've painted here with the brushstrokes of words. :)

Deanna Schrayer said...

Superbly described interaction here Thom. Just brilliant!

Sulci Collective said...

the back and forth free flowing pollock lines serve well for this relationship of fluidity & changing power

marc nash

Quin Browne said...

Ah. I shall remember this when next I see a pollock...

Eric J. Krause said...

Never judge a book by its cover...or an art enthusiast by her clothes. Good story!

techtigger said...

very nice - i've done that, sat at an art gallery and looked up at a peice. sometimes you just need to spend some time with art to really 'see' it :)

A. S. Boudreau said...

Love this. I too had to read it over and over... I could see it like I was right there. Your descriptions are always like that for me though.

They are alive.

Powerful images. Powerful emotions.

Mike Robertson said...

Such a classy romantic moment. Never turned me loose. Nice one.

Kath said...

Really liked how you built up the tension in this piece between the two characters, how they sparked off each other and how the woman decided to let him in on her secret and share it. Magic.

ms pie said...

as all have mentioned above, a keeper... the flow is so enticing we are caught up with the museum painting pollock and the two viewers.. especially like the intro of "yr way is not always the only way"... and that he would relent his mind and bend his body so easily to her.. you are now settled a bit more?? bird on a wire

Harry said...

I'm surprised that an art lover with a stick that far up his ass would be wearing Chucks. Picturing him standing just so to view the painting, I imagined him in a blazer with patches on the elbows and a turtle neck, maybe clenching an unlit pipe. Loved the way the girl changes his view and maybe his views. Beautiful work here Thom!

Monica Manning said...

What a wonderful piece, ThomG! I have this stupid, sloppy grin on my face now. And a strong urge to rush over to the art gallery and sit on the floor in front of every painting, not just the Pollocks. I know my high school art teacher would appreciate that and I thought of him the entire time.