Mystery…Haven’t you walked down a street or sat in a bar or a restaurant or a doctor’s waiting room and wondered about someone you see? You don’t want to stare …but there must have been something that made you wonder. Sometimes for me it plays on my mind and two days later I’ll still be pondering the mystery. Like here’s a guy with a crisp white shirt and clean pressed suit…looking sharp…and he’s wearing a battered pair of work boots…That’s not so big a deal…but how come? Then there’s the lady with the sad eyes…about forty, sitting ramrod straight at the cafe in front of a tea. All around are hipsters and kids engrossed in tablets and I-phones. They’re all quiet but she’s calm…tense…but not rigid. She’s self contained. Something has happened. She’s turning it over in her mind…digesting it. Is it serious? A death in the family or a friend? No…not that sort of grief. A diagnosis with consequences? Possibly. Trouble with a partner? Yessss perhaps…but what kind of trouble? I gave her a name…Marjory. Decided I like her and stopped looking. There’s a point where it becomes intrusive…invasive. It’s a habit of mine. People fascinate me and I watch them, look at how they sit or stand, hold their hands or tilt their heads, what’s happening in their faces. Later a gesture or a posture may become part of a drawing or painting. I try not to be rude…
I put Marjory in a red chair, nude but not posed, in front of a window with a cool breeze. She smokes and thinks but there’s no pressure or pretence and the room is cool with no distractions. The mystery is still there…but we’ve moved on from tea in a cafe…she’s almost worked it out. A little later she’ll get dressed and go out. She drives a silver Jetta downtown to an office. Her partner is out of town…She’ll call later. Then we’ll see.
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