Solo But First, Let Me Take a Selfie(portrait): Part I

[Anouk]

36th Spring, 515AV

"And as you can imagine, as one gets older, one wants to preserve as much as one can of one's memories and life."

The woman speaking to Anouk, Majorie Denoux, had such a haughty voice that the Konti immediately thought of the times her sister and she played pretend as young girls. Okanis always chose to play a princess, a high priestess, or some such woman of luxury. In these games, Anouk's youngest sister would put on an accent much like the one that seeped out of the mouth of her latest client.

"Well, of course." She replied softly, realising that Majorie was staring at her with pursed lips, waiting for the Konti to agree with her. Anouk guessed that this woman had never been told 'no' for the entirety of her life. "What would you like me to paint for you?"

The old woman edged her glasses down the tip of her nose and peered at Anouk over the top of them, "why, myself darling. What else?" Marjorie gave a casual little shrug, as if the thought of having a portrait of anything but herself would never have entered her mind, "my husband passed away several years ago, and we never had a portrait of him. When I die, I don't want to be just some memory for some snot-nosed great-grandson to forget. I want to be eternal, captured as I am now so I simply cannot be forgotten."

She wants to be preserved, like a jam or chutney, Anouk thought. For anyone else, the act would be a sad or touching one. But Majorie wanted to be remembered for the sake of being remembered, like some revered martyr instead of a bored, selfish housewife. "What a touching thought." The Konti said with a tight smile, trying her best to conceal her dislike of such egocentricity. "Have you ever had a self portrait before?"

Majorie laughed loudly, a deep and throaty laugh that truly riled Anouk and made her skin crawl. "My dear, allow me to answer that question for you." She led Anouk into another plush room, with fine drapes hanging at the windows and a rug so thick Anouk felt that she was walking on a cloud. For a tick, the Konti watched her client with mild intrigue, waiting for the old woman to explain herself. But then Anouk noticed something; a large painting, approximately four foot tall, hanging on the wall behind Majorie. A young brunette woman sat regally on a luxurious chair, staring back down at Anouk with narrowed and patronising eyes. Anouk recognised the stare immediately. "This is you?"

The old woman laughed again, swiping a ring-covered hand across the width of the room. "My dear, they are all me."

And slowly, it dawned on Anouk that no less than seven pairs of eyes were watching her, including those belonging to the real-life Majorie Denoux. When Anouk scanned her eyes clockwise around the room, she realised that the six paintings documented the life of Majorie. The first painting captured the woman as a girl, barely out of infancy, whilst the last showed her with greying hair and a wrinkled face. "I try to have a self-portrait done every ten or so years, though I must admit I've lapsed a little as of late."

Indeed she had: Majorie now had a full head of silver hair, which she styled in tight curls on the top of her crown. Her skin was now paper-thin, wrinkled and drooping. Looking at the aging woman, Anouk was thankful for the gift her people had for long lives.

[Anouk]

Anouk was still unsure how a woman who had already owned so many self-portraits could fear she would not be remembered by future generations. There were enough paintings to fill every room of a standard-sized house in Zeltiva, so even her lineage lost the family fortune, her likenesses would still be able to oversee every tick of the lives of her descendants. Majorie Denoux would not be an easy woman to forget. She was certainly imprinted in Anouk's mind - that was for sure.

"They're... lovely." She stammered out, aware that she had not commented on the portraits yet. With an awkward smile, Anouk tried to convince herself and her client that truly did the paintings were lovely, instead of self-indulgent and horrid.

Majorie weighed up the Konti with a critical eye. She envied the blonde woman's youth and longevity, two things that she lacked. But if this Anouk could do her art justice, there should be no reason for any hostility between the two women. So after sucking behind her teeth and raising an eyebrow, Majorie said, "We'll paint the portrait in here," she said, as if her part of the work would be just as demanding as Anouk's, "I've had the others in this room, in that chair over there, with the view of the garden behind me."

The room was too dark for Anouk's liking. Syna's light threw itself in through the tall windows, casting a comparative darkness across the rest of the room. Anouk knew, as well, that once Majorie had sat herself in her chair, her face would be shadowed. It would be hard to paint all the details of the old woman's face - particularly all those creases and wrinkles. But then again, maybe that was why she chose to sit with her face encased in shadows.

"Are we in agreement, then?"

She nodded and smiled, extending her gloved hand towards Majorie to finally seal their arrangement. The old woman merely glanced down to it with slight disdain, as if insulted. It's my glove, Anouk thought with frustration, she thinks I'm implying she's dirty. She slowly removed the lace glove, a finger at a time before sliding it off to reveal her fair skin underneath. When she offered her hand this time, it was met with a limp handshake from Majorie.

Anouk's mind was filled with the old woman's sad desire. She wished to be younger, unsurprisingly, to last forever and to be remembered. More specifically, she desired the painting Anouk would create to reflect her youthful spirit as opposed to her failing body.

The handshake broke away, and the Konti's desire became her own once again. Her gift was of course an honoured thing to have, but at times it overwhelmed Anouk with unwanted information that could soil her opinion of a new acquaintance. She might see what a young man wants to do to her or another woman, or how one person desires to fight another. But in this instance, the desires that Anouk felt from Majorie actually made the Konti appreciate the woman in a new way. She did not fear death, but she feared getting old and invalid. She desired her physical form to match her spirit, but age had stolen that from her.

"Very good. Shall we begin, then?" She did not want for Anouk to respond, but instead Majorie called out a name, "Timothy!"

A stiff-looking housekeeper entered the room, his face pursed. After throwing Anouk a derisive glance, he turned his attention to his employer, "yes, misstress?"

"Fetch the paints and canvases from upstairs, will you? Anouk here is to paint my portait." Majorie flicked a casual finger to another doorway on the other side of the parlour room, "and be quick about it."

[Anouk]

Tim disappeared through the other doorway, but he soon back heaving a large canvas on his back. Anouk instinctively stepped towards him, to offer her assistance. Majorie's Denoux's eyes watched her with unbridled disapproval; she was of the class that did not offer her help to the help, and she would not appreciate her artist to it either. So, guiltily, Anouk just stood there. She sheepishly smiled at Tim as he placed the canvas in front of her on the easel, but the servant just glared.

"Excellent! Shall we begin? Oh, and Tim. Miss Pavarti and I will take tea."

Anouk did not have the courage to tell her client that she disliked tea, so again she said nothing. I should choke on my tongue if I'm not to use it she thought sternly.

Majorie took her place on her regal throne-like chair. Anouk did not need to see the other paintings surrounding her to know that Majorie had had her portrait done before; the old woman positioned herself expertly, setting her gaze to the left of Anouk in a professional-like manner. And as the artist had predicted, Majore's face was instantly cast in a shadow. The thin darkness did not preserve the old woman's appearance, but instead made her look even older, like a haunting spirit sent by Dira.

Nevertheless, the Konti could do nought but start her sketch. She had bought her art supplies with her - which Anouk felt that Majorie took as a slight towards the artists' tools she had offered. But to Anouk, a paintbrush and charcoal was something that was shaped to each artist, like a good pair of gloves. She wouldn't dream of using a brush owned by another artist. The fit would just be bad.

But she did offer to make use of the paints Majorie had supplied - these were less personal to an artist, and more importantly more expensive. It would cost Anouk more immediate expenditure to buy her own oils, and the ones her client had purchased for her were of good quality.

Her sketch started with Majorie's face, which she outlined with her charcoals. It started with a narrow oval, with two, smaller ovals inside for the eyes. Next: the hair. Just a rough outline, again, to capture the height of the topknot which sat high on the old woman's face. "You would like me to paint you in this outfit, correct?"

Majorie nodded tightly, offering no further explanation.

The old woman wore a maroon velvet dress, which had an intricate lace neck that climbed up her throat. It was, if Anouk were to be completely honest, awful. But she guessed that it had been very expensive, which to people like Majorie equalled stylish and pretty.

The neck of the dress would be difficult to draw from memory alone, and so Anouk paid more attention to her guiding sketch for this part. She leant close to her canvas, touching the charcoal lightly onto the canvas so she could mark out the flowers and swirls that made the lace pattern. She kept her hand steady, but had to pause after five chimes to massage out cramp.

[Anouk]

The creak of floorboards signalled to the Konti that Tim had returned with the tea. He placed a delicate cup of sickly-sweet green liquid beside her, and Anouk wrinkled her nose instinctively. She nevertheless thanked the servant and tried her best to turn her attention back to the canvas. But the herbal tea infiltrated her nostrils, made her feel queasy.

"Are you alright, dear?" Majorie asked between sips of her tea. The steam made her complexion flush pinkly.

"Oh, yes. Thank you."

The old woman watched her with through narrowed eyes. After a few awkward ticks, she said in a harsh tone of voice, "my fourth husband had a Konti lover, once."

This was not the type of conversation Anouk wished to have with her wrinkled client. Silently, she prayed to Avalis for patience before muttering, "Oh?" She kept her gaze fixated on the canvas, trying to end their conversation there. Anouk had now sketched out the neckline and had turned her attention to the surroundings behind Majorie. From her viewpoint, she could see the well-kept gardens of the Denoux mansion. She sketched out the outline of a cherry tree and glanced to Majorie, awaiting her response.

"Yes, he visited Mura as a young man and met a woman there. The two had a child together. Called Zena. Do you know her?"

"No, I don't." Mura was not a huge city, but it was commonplace for a Konti woman to leave the motherland to seek further adventure. A faint memory of her older sister, Thalia discussing a classmate whispered at the back of Anouk's mind. Had the classmate been called Zena? Sena? Bena? Something like that.

Majorie snorted unpleasantly. "Well, anyway. She's visited here a few times, but she's very quiet."

As is the way of my kind, Anouk thought. The Konti women were slow to judge, observing and learning about others before they paid their judgements. To someone as brusque as Majorie, the artist could see how passivity could be regarded as weakness. "We are a quiet people." She said in mild defence, not lifting her eyes form her canvas.

The windows were finished now, they're rectangular outline marked with a cross to represent the individual windowpanes. Anouk paused to regard the rest of the surroundings: the first portrait of Majorie stared over her left shoulder. The Konti gestured to it, "I was thinking it might be fitting to have that portrait behind you included in the background. Your past self looking over your present self, if you will."

Of course this meant that Anuk would technically have to paint Majorie twice. Was her art worth it?

Yes.

If she was ever going to make a name for herself as an artist in Zeltiva, this commission was important. Majorie had a large ego and even larger mouth. If she liked the painting, Anouk hoped she would spread word of the Konti artist to all her other wealthy friends.

[Anouk]

"Yes, that would be suitable," Majorie approved, without a hint of pleasure of positivity in her haughty voice.

Silence resumed, and Anouk continued to stroke the canvas with her charcoal to build up her image. Ater a bell or so, she had a detailed sketch of Majorie sitting ethereally on her throne, her younger sell over her right shoulder, and the pretty gardens over her left. The rest of room, as the old woman had requested, had been left relatively dark and without much detail.

"Would you like to see my sketch prior to me starting to paint? The Konti requested, half-guessing her client's answer.

And she wasn't wrong. "Well, yes. I better." The chair creaked as Majorie heaved herself and onto her feet. She strode behind the canvas and bent forwards, inspecting it with a close critical eye. Her breath blew on Anouk's ear, filling the Konti's nostrils with the minty tea. "Nice progress. Yes, it looks promising." With a sigh the old woman straightened herself back up.

"Syna is beginning to drop," Anouk explained, throwing a small hand towards the window, "I would suggest we restart sometime tomorrow. Do you have a throw to cover the canvas with? Just so the charcoal doesn't fade or get knocked."

Majorie tsked and flapped a dismissive hand. "Oh, Tim will deal with that. And yes, tomorrow sounds marvellous. Tenth bell?"

The Konti daren't disagree with the woman, so she nodded and smiled. "Yes, that would be wonderful." She lied mildly, and bid her client goodbye.

[Pulren Marsh]

A Grade is Coming
Your Wave

An interesting read about Anouk's process. I don't think she likes tea.

 

Anouk

XP

• Drawing 3
• Observation 3
• Acting 2
• Subterfuge 1

Lores

• Majorie Denoux: Rich and Entitled
• Drawing: Finding the Right Light
• Painting: Each Artist's Tools Are Unique
• Acting: Smiling Through It All

PM me if you need clarification.

Thanks,


Pulren Marsh