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El cielo sobre Cartagena Pt. 2

#amateur photographer #amateur photography #by mobile #by phone #mobile photographer #mobile photography #phone photographer #phone photography #redmi camera #snapseed #xiaomi camera #redmi note 11 pro plus 5g #cielo #sky #himmel #céu #nubes #clouds #nuvens #wolken #blanco y negro #black and white #schwarze und weiß #preto e branco #Cartagena #Bolívar #Colombia

@of-ivory-and-gold

Marius stood before a large canvas, a brush between two fingers of the hand that rest upon his hip and another brush clutched gently between his teeth. He hummed as he worked, a light melody. But his thoughts were in disarray.

The figures posed on the canvas were two women, profane and sacred love. They rest along the border of the painting, the center occupied by a large fountain, a fountain of love from which to draw waters. Painted around the fountain was a string of winding, elaborate flowers. To the left was profane love. Her face carried a bored expression, her face upon an elbow upon the fountain in discontent. Sacred love leaned over the fountain, her hand swirling the waters within. Hers was an expression of serenity, her pose of easy peace. Standing on the fountain was Cupid. Only this Cupid was no ruddy and plump child. Rather he took on the countenance of a young man. He had a beautiful face like the angels of Botticelli. As his side hung his bow, uncertain the direction of which it should be slung. He could not choose between the will of the two women.

It was the wings of Cupid that troubled Marius so, and these wings he pondered with his eyebrows furrowed. The bird like wonder of the wings, these he could not get rendered to his satisfaction. Something about the feathers did not seem right, they did not look lovely or natural enough.

Snatching the brush from his lips, he gave a great sigh. Turning to look over his shoulder, he gazed about. Riccardo? Where was Riccardo?

His eyes spied Albinus, the sweet white haired Albinus who looked so bright by the lamp light.

“Quickly,” he said, waving a hand, “I should need another canvas. This is wrong, all wrong.” Always, Marius saw the slightest imperfection and he sought to pain the perfect image, images without flaw. He threw the brushes down as of to punctuate his discontent.

#ofivoryandgold #please forgive formatting #by mobile