Raw Canvas Stretched
written by: imarkanx
you message. asking for help. I hadn’t expected to hear from you. after last time. immediately the warm smell of oils tangles in my thoughts. smudged porcelain white flecks on your burnt umber skin. hints of rust and tang of clay clinging to your palette and clothes. and to mine.
’how can I help?’
’I need a hand stretching a new frame. if you could?’
I should know better. ‘sure. omw.’
your studio is chaos. familiar. ochre light reflects off your clean brushes carelessly propped across paint speckled mason jars. finished canvases bright with colours lean against the yellow brick wall. splintered pine frames and torn canvases crammed into overstretched black contractor bags. aroma of oils warm in the back of my throat.
you glance up. smile. your energy floods me. static under my skin. I curl my toes intentionally catching ingrown toenail to reset. try to deny my memory. the pain only reminds me of your fingernails on my back. sharp. insistent. I should leave. instead I ask ‘what’s the project?’
you show me. make small talk. catch up on three months of minutiae. avoiding our rift.
you expose your frustration. share bare sketches. you want a nonstandard frame. more abstract explosion than Euclidean anything. but the angles and joins splinter whenever the canvas is stretched and gessoed.
you show me your current framing. you admit, ‘I need a carpenter.’
I tease. ‘of course you do. but you called me instead. it’s my hands and tools you need.’
then test your tension. ‘I can never resist your requests.’ your eyes sparkle. you risk taking the bait. nibble your lower lip. bump me with your hip.
you warn. ‘we are dangerous together. I’ll probably throw you out. again.’
I tighten a clamp, anchoring the corner. ‘I know.’ touch your cheek. trace the paint flecks like a map, feeling the exact threshold where the frame stops bending. nears to breaking. so close.
you take my hand and show me what precisely needs to be stretched. raw canvas. on your bed frame.
each of us a painting. wanting to be.
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