Reviving Her Picasso

Cora briskly strolled up to her shiny, grey car, pushing the unlock button on her key fob as she reached the driver side door. She grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, flopping down into the driver's seat, forcefully shutting the door, and pushing the lock button. She raised the key with shaking hands and put the key into the ignition, slowly turning it tell the engine began to hum.

               Cora leaned back, resting her upper body in the curve of the back of the seat. A loud sigh escaped from her lips as she silently sat, not paying attention to the bustle of the cars and people around her. Cora’s brown eyes sadly stared out the windshield, seeing nothing and feeling only the shock of the experience she just had to sit through for the last hour and a half. It’s not every day you are forced to sit in a room across from someone you loved and cared for. Separating what you had shared together for the last twenty-three years. Cora couldn’t believe that Jake, the man who had promised till death do us part, really meant tell I find someone younger than you. Cora could feel the bile creep up her throat, her stomach churning with the thought of her forty-year-old husband…. ex-husband, being with a twenty-five-year-old woman. She wasn’t sure what made the situation more nauseating, her pure naivety of everything or the number of years she devoted to such an unworthy man. Tears started to threaten to flood her eyes, but Cora wasn’t having it. She was done crying for this man and the whole situation she was now in.

               Cora grabbed her phone, punching in her new address to her new bungalow style home that she had just purchased. Only living here a few months Cora didn’t quite know her way around yet. She placed her phone in the holder hanging from her windshield and put her car into gear. As she drove down the streets making turns when her phone instructed her too, Cora started to think about all the changes that had bombarded her life. She loved her new house, the kitchen was amazing, but she cooked in it all the time, alone. The bedroom was roomy, the bed large and comfy, but she slept in it all the time, alone. The living room with its shabby chic décor was everything she had always wanted her living room to look like, but she sat in it, watching T. V…. alone. Alone, it was such an empty word, it continuously swirled around in her thoughts, with its dark, cold fingers it grasped her chest, crushing her resolve along with her lungs, making it so hard to breathe. Feeling like she was going to have a panic attack Cora carefully pulled over, shifting her car into park, but leaving it on.

               Slowly Cora started to take deep breaths, talking herself down from the panic that she was feeling, calming it all out of her body, making it easier to breathe and focus again. Cora felt disappointment in herself, she used to never let things get to her and here she was having a panic attack. She shook her head and when she did this, she caught a glimpse of a sign in front of one of the stores that lined the street. It was a vibrant sign that said ART, with other signs stating that they had all sorts of art supplies. 

Cora turned off her car, getting out of the car and locking it as she walked into the art store. The smell of paint and canvas filled her nostrils, taking her back to her childhood. She strolled down the isles looking at the many bright colors of paints, brilliant watercolors, and different kinds of mediums. She turned and walked down another isle that was full of all kinds of paint brushes and then she saw all the many empty canvases. There were so many sizes lining the wall.

               Cora slowly walked up to a row of large canvases, shyly reaching her fingers out, softly touching the taught, pulled canvas. She rubbed her fingers over the texture of the canvas, a small smile touched her lips. She inhaled the smell of the wood that created the frame, the gesso that covered the canvas and a vibrant memory swept over her. She was thirteen again, lost in the sadness of the death of her older sister Stella who was only eighteen at the time of her passing. Cora’s mother wasn’t available for her through this loss, as her mother was dealing with the death of her child. So, Cora was alone, walking through the grief and heartache.

               One day, her mother walks into the house after a day of shopping for household items and she walks into Cora’s room, carrying several large canvases, paint brushes and paint. Cora had looked at her mother with a questioning look.

               “I thought that you would like to use these. They might help.” Her mother replied to Cora’s look.

               Cora retrieved the items from her mother and softly replied, “Thank you.”

               That was the start of her love of painting. Cora painted for many years, not producing anything amazing but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that she got her emotions out and onto the canvas. When Cora was twenty-one, she married Jake and life took over, leaving no time for creativity. There were times when Cora would attempt to start to paint, however Jake would belittle her and tell her it was a waste of time as well as money. Thus, she threw herself into marriage and everyday life.

               “Did you need any help?” The kind, soft voice interrupted Cora’s daydream.

               Cora looked at the elderly woman, who had a large tuff of silver hair surrounding her face and her blue eyes shone with kindness. Her name badge read, Gigi. “Um, I don’t think so. I was just looking around. I haven’t been in an art supply store in a very long time.”

               Gigi gave a cheery chuckle, “Well you came to the right place!” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “We got canvases on sale and the acrylic paints are buy one get one free!!” Gigi gave Cora a large wrinkly smile.

               Cora couldn’t help but smile back, she nodded, “Okay, thank you.”

               “You just let me know if you need any help or advice on what to buy. I’ve been painting since I could put on my drawers!!” She laughed at herself, which in turn made Cora laugh along with her.

               “Thank You.” Cora replied.

               An hour later Cora exited the art supply store with several different sizes of canvass, bags full of paints and brushes.

               Gigi walks out of her store following Cora to her car, carrying a painting aisle. 

               Cora turned around at the sound of Gigi approaching and gave a surprised look at her.

               “You can’t paint very well if you don’t have an easel.”

               “But I didn’t….” Cora started to say but was interrupted by Gigi’s waving hand.

               “Yes well, I can smell a talented artist a mile away, and an artist needs their supplies.” She walked over and helped Cora open the car doors and put the items inside.

               “Gigi I can’t….”

               “Shush girl.” Gigi interrupted as she shut the car door and stood back looking at Cora. She didn’t say anything for a few passing moments and then smiled. “I think we are goanna be friends.” She clapped her hands in excitement, again. “I’ll see you soon.” Gigi turned and walked back into her store.

               Cora stood for a moment, stunned by her encounter with Gigi, whose Moxey and kindness touched Cora’s soul, making her feel happy. Something that she hadn’t felt in a while. 

               The drive home was full of so many ideas floating around her head. She managed to get her arm to fit through the easel, so she only had to make one trip to the house. She had decided on the way home that she was going to set up shop in the extra bedroom that faced the backyard. She thought the big window in there, overlooking the garden, would be an inspiration for her. 

               She set everything up, bringing in some extra tables for her water, rags, and brushes. She had put down an old rug on the floor to protect the hardwood underneath. She had an old stool in the garage that she had dragged in and set it in front of the easel. She changed into some comfortable jeans and shirt that she didn’t mind getting dirty. 

               Cora put some music on in the background, with her bare feet on the bottom bar of her stool she sat there and just stared at the large, white empty canvas. All the ideas she had before seemed to not fit the canvas. She listened to the music, trying to come up with something to start the creative juices flowing. After a few passing moments, Cora let out a frustrated sound. She didn’t remember it being this hard to paint when she was younger. The feeling of doubt started to creep up inside of her.

               Cora shook her head, “What was I thinking.” She whispered softly to herself.

               Cora was about to stand up and just walk away when the song that was playing came to an end and another one started. Cora froze in place, gooseflesh covered her arms, making her hair upon them stand up. The song was one that her mom loved and listened to all the time…. which brought her words back to Cora….” You could use these.”

               An overwhelming feeling of certainness and excitement rushed through her as she reached over and grabbed a brush. Then she put several colors on her palette, looking down at the palette, she quirked her lips to one side. Cora wetted her brush, taking the excess water out of the brush with the side of the jar and she randomly picked a color. She swirled her brush into it and put her brush on the canvas. Slowly she moved the brush over the canvas. Cora felt so much joy inside as the paint glided onto the canvas, feeling the smoothness of the paint against the texture of the canvas vibrate through the brush up into her hand. She watched as the paint colored and how it moved across the white background, creating this calm demeanor in her posture.

               Soon…. Cora was lost in her thoughts, in her painting. She started to realize how much of herself she had lost in her marriage. She had let her marriage define who she was, what she was, and she had no one to blame but herself. As she painted the many colors over the canvas, she began to think about what she was panicky about. It was the idea of trying to find who she was again. It was scary and she knew it was going to be hard, hopefully painting again with help her on her journey.