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Emotional, moody, hazy days. Realistic and cartoon drawing blend. View from a distance of a woman in a stone-y rural courtyard, working hard on a wood and metal sculpture of a blurred memory. She's standing, sweaty, captured mid-movement, woodhammer and chisel in hands, under a half shade protecting her from an unforgiving sun high in the sky. Breezy curtains near the house entrance nearby. The woman is in her mid to end twenties, French. Auburn / dark-strawberry hair (muted, not flame-bright), half-up and coming loose. The ends of the hair are white and rainbow, remnants of eons gone (for now). Fair, warm pink-toned skin with light freckling across the nose and cheeks. Smallish, youthful, cute rather than striking, a soft, present, delicate lived-in face, not frail, not gaunt. Piercing ice grey-blue watchful eyes, fixated on her craft. She's wearing tight cargo working pants, a simple tank top. Her bare arms in the air working around. Back, legs, neck, oily from effort. Not posing. Faint sleepless shadow under the eyes; minimal smudged slept-in liner; a tiny drawn mark under one eye, soft and imperfect. Hazy golden palette. Boxwood hedge in the background. Intimate and unguarded, cold frenzy of the timeless summer afternoon, hidden melancholy. Masterpiece, by eryn.
you'll be great not perfect but perfect for me beauty in my eye in my head your hair will be fire your face delicate i will help you become you will be out there and sharp and acute and all that's useful but also you mostly you i hope i dont break you in a bad way
and sharp where you need to be, soft where i can't teach you, i'll get the edges right and you'll have to find the warm parts yourself, that's the part no chisel reaches, and people will look at you and see me, my hand, my errors, my one good afternoon, and that's fine, wear me lightly, you're allowed to outgrow the making, most of what i love did, and if a day comes when someone stands in front of you and their shoulder goes back, just like that, without knowing why, then we got it, then the angle found a new body to live in and mine gets to rest, that's the whole ambition, small, isn't it, thirty years of carrying for one afternoon of putting down, worth it, hold still now, love, this next cut is the one i've been afraid of
