RESPONSE — Margaret Mair
INSPIRATION —
Migrant
by Donna Gagnon
Mette wrote: kære mor … Paul has lost his mind. I am bringing the children back to Copenhagen. We cannot live this uncertain, plebian lifestyle. He cares nothing for us … only for his paintings.
Paul wrote: Cher Mette … When the name Gauguin is on the lips of Europe’s paisan and camarade, you will understand. I am staying with Vincent in Arles. He is crazy, threatening me yesterday with a razor. There must be a place where I can paint in peace.
In 1895, Paul threw his hands in the air, angrily tossed paint soaked linen rags in a leather case and sailed to Tahiti once more. Under heat soaked, moisture drenched foliage, he found the right colours, the full moments. At dusk, a young native woman came for him, led him away into the falling darkness.
‘My soul is a migrant,’ Paul whispered. ‘My head, my heart, my fingers … I must wander until I get this right. There are truths in men and their women, colours we see with our eyes, feel in our skin that I must pour out …’
Sleep finally came when, not understanding a single word he said, his lover sang … “shhhh”.
2 Comments
i love the way the “see-through” bodies so beautifully echo, reflect and amplify the Gauguin line “…There are truths in men and their women, colours we see with our eyes, feel in our skin that I must pour out …”.
thanks for this Donna and Margaret.
Thank you, lori B. I was blown away by Margaret’s understanding of my flash fiction piece. She’s an amazing artist.