Caught in-between #Wattys2016

Shirley

It was Thursday and Joe had been gone for 2 days.

I had the music blasting. Deep base rumblings filled my studio.  There was only one way for me to exercise my demons and that was through creativity. I was full of demons. They seemed to be haunting me.

Adam had left yesterday morning and I was right back to where I had started. So I’d come to the studio think, to figure out how I had faltered so easily when my determination had seemed so solid. I mixed crimson red acrylic paint, and with a decorator’s brush splashed an accusatory line across the blank canvas that I had set up.

Red for danger, red for anger, red for distress, red for wrong. Yes, red was good.

I had managed to fuck up royally, AGAIN. I hadn’t even called my mother. I shook my head as I thought about this. Thinking about my mother made me think about my father, and thinking about my father was almost as painful as losing him. I had barely spoken to my mother in a year. Being an only child, I knew this must be killing her.

I looked around my studio, my space. No one was allowed to come here; there was no eating, no drinking, no smoking, and no fucking in this place. My space was relatively small, 400 square feet, with numerous pieces of art work stacked up in no real order against one wall, ready for my exhibition. I only had seven weeks to go and I was anxious about how my pieces would be received. When I looked at the collection, I saw pain, anguish actually. I saw a self-loathing mixed with selfishness. I saw this past year bled onto canvas and it scared the hell out of me that other people would see it too.

It scared me that Joe would see it.

I’d spoken to Joe that morning. He was loving Romania. They’d loosened the reigns on the students allowing them to go clubbing unsupervised, giving the staff some time to let their hair down. Joe and Stuart had gone on a bar crawl. I was pleased really; it was about time Joe had some fun. He was constantly worrying about my wellbeing and forgot to make time for himself. I missed him ironically, and I was pissed at him too. If he hadn’t have left, then Adam couldn’t have gotten to me the way that he had. But I knew this was bullshit. I couldn’t put any of this on Joe.

I’d been lost in thought, working enthusiastically. Various shades of reds and brown formed an intimidating shaft, stark against white canvas, standing tall above calm blue flecks. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been working and was shocked to see that three hours had passed me by. My stomach rumbled, complaining at the small amounts of food I had given it. I needed to go in search of lunch before I could continue. I grabbed my keys to lock up and headed towards my apartment.

It was a fine day. The sun shone high in the sky. Sky so blue it stretched for miles and miles. I was realising that I’d needed this time. With Joe gone for a few days, I had time to think without feeling the same levels of guilt that I did when he was around.

I walked around the corner of Maiden’s St., scheduling the rest of my day in my head when I saw a familiar figure headed towards my apartment. Slight and curly dark haired; she seemed smaller somehow. I paused for a moment before calling out after her, ‘Shirley’. She turned around, tears brimming, threatening to fall. ‘Cassanda?’ I jogged towards her.  ‘Hey Mum’