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ou are a fine noblewoman, and this commission will be my masterpiece.  I do not believe myself so much as a painter, but my work has captured the attention of the wealthy and aristocratic members of the city.  Painting is one of many interests, but when I submerge myself in such an undertaking my hands feel like they are almost taken over by another, greater being.  This is what has happened as the portrait has developed.

I mix the colors on the palette almost as if I am in a dream, and they form the images on the canvas that seem to glow when they are created.  I stand back from time to time from my work.  I can scarcely believe that I have been anointed with the great honor of this painting.  My subject has an intense beauty, a look that personifies the mystery and quiet knowing of all women who have lived before and will live after her.  Alone the face is not remarkable, but the countenance, the look of the eyes, the enigmatic smile is to be remembered, to be captured by the artist.  It is my privilege to capture this on the canvas.

Who will remember her, of fine feature and nobility? Who will remember this painter and understand the transforming experience she and I experienced together.  She didn’t speak, but her gentle eyes and quiet smile were all I needed to perform my work.  That, and her exquisite beauty.

This is a painting I would wish to keep, but he wants it for his home.  She is his wife and must return.  I put down the brush and hold the painting forward so she can see.   A glow from those eyes, just enough to catch the light; and I turn and make a finish, just that small detail that captures her final look, then turn.  She’s gone.

Two lovers stood at the base of the painting. But only one saw the sparkle, just like the artist wanted it to be, as a gesture to those who love greatly, and one just a shining moment more.