Inspired by a film short by a children’s picture book illustrator, who’s short described her use of a limited color palette, I decided to apply the process to this piece I’ve just begun work on.
This work which I will title, “The Flirt”, encompasses the innocent, flirtatious glances of a little girl and boy.
While flirting is a natural part of our very being, also seen in other creatures of nature, I’d not personally seen anyone present it quite as bluntly as Paula (said Pow-la) a girl we met in Italy.
Our entourage, which consisted of about seven men and myself, were on the train back to Terrugia from a day of walking about Milan. The car we were in was nearly empty, only a few stragglers heading home after a long hot day. We all sat in a cluster of seats chatting about the sights we had seen when on bustled a girl with dark hair and dark eyes, her arms clutching a package and a backpack slung over one shoulder. She quickly eyed our group and one of the single, young men, Erik, who was sitting by himself right behind Glen and I. While there were many available seats, she plopped herself down right next to Erik, gave him a big smile, introduced herself, and immediately began prying information from him. She inquired as to where we were all from and why we were visiting Italy. We all listened for a while but then went back to our own lagging, individual conversations. Occassionally we were drawn back in to her ever intensifying questions of Erik’s personal life.
“Are you married?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she would ask, refixing the ponytail in her curly black hair. More personal questions. Then she slipped off her loosely knit sweater revealing a tight, thin strapped camisole.
I was trying to block out her incessant, giddy inquisition so that I could enjoy my time with Glen, when suddenly she zipped open her backpack which was nearly bursting at the seams and rustled through it’s contents to find a paper and pen. She scribbled her phone number and thrust it at Erik as she collected her belongings.
“You can call me,” she said as she hustled to the door. “Anytime.”
The train screeched to a hault at it’s next stop and out she hopped.
Outside the windows she walked along the platform near the train as she adjusted that enormous backpack on her back and clutched her sweater and package in her arms, all the while glancing up into the window at Erik. As the train picked up speed to leave the station she began jogging along side the train shouting to Erik.
“Call me,…call me!”
(I know you’re thinking,…that only happens in the movies. And of course what happened next I thought only did too.)
She was almost at a run now, with the huge backpack bobbing up and down on her back when suddenly … she tripped.
“Did you see that?” Erik quickly turned to ask us, wondering if we had been watching her antics.
“She just went face first into the pavement!”
We didn’t know how bad things turned out for Paula, as we had already moved too far down the tracks to see.
I don’t know if Erik ever did call Paula, as truthfully he already had a girlfriend back in the states.