Petrichor ~ Lewis Hamilton

1

December 11, 2020, Monaco.

I look at the blank canvas in front of me, I really thought that today was finally going to be the day, that I was going to be able to do something. But the bit of creativity that I thought I had achieved vanished as soon as my fingers touched the brush.

I leave the brush on the easel and the palette in the sink with water, I don't even bother to remove the remains of paint on it.

I turn off the lights in the small studio and get dressed for the cold outside. I've only been here a couple of weeks and I notice that every day I spend here gets colder than the last, don't really know if it's the weather or just my perception.

This studio is everything I ever imagined I would need for my job. Diaphanous and spacious, with a large window that allows me to have natural light and something to distract myself with when I am not inspired, which seems to be happening more and more lately. It is just five minutes from my apartment on foot, which allows me to go and return as many times as I want.

My agent, Gina had taken it upon herself to fill it with all the materials I might need. And not just for my trusty oils, she sent charcoals, watercolors, color pencils, even a mini carving station, dont really know why.

For me, who started in a small corner in my father's study, with hardly any natural sunlight most of the hours of the day and with just the absolutely necessary materials, this was much more than I ever imagined.

My phone started ringing as I was just about to open the door and leave the studio.

"Are you still thinking of coming tonight?" Gina asked on the other side when I picked it up, skipping any kind of formalities.

"I wanted to"

I close the door behind me and took the stairs down to the street.

"You don't have to if you don't feel like it"

My first exhibition was when I was twenty one , just two paintings in a small gallery in Paris. Since then the collections have become more exclusive and the galleries bigger but I still go to all of them. No matter how far they are.

"You know I never miss these things, I'll be there, I won't promise I won't be late but I'll be there"

"A spur of creativity finally?" She asked hopeful.

I sighed while turning the corner to my street.

"More like two hours sitting infront of a blank canvase, it will come Gigi"

"It's been almost a year"

I know she doesn't tell me that to put pressure on me, I know her and she knows that it would never work. But it was true, and even though she doesn't want to put pressure on me, I'm the one who gets frustrated by the lack of results. Cause I've got everything I'd need to make it but still it's like my body locks up and my mind goes blank.

"It will come, I will see you there"

I finally got to my apartment at last, when I entered I still see a couple of moving boxes in the living room that I should have emptied a long time ago but that I decided to leave for another time, as always.