Artemisia and Writing Journal

Artemisia stood next to Veronica, gazing deeply into the white sheet before them.
“You’re not allowed to laugh,” said Artemisia, quickly glancing at the door before taking the white cloth in her hands.
“I won’t,” promised Veronica. A cool breeze fluttered the curtains through an open window on their left. Dark wood glistened in the sunlight. Artemisia gave a slight tug on the drapery and deep colors jumped out from the canvas before them.
“What do you think?” asked Artemisia.
“Well it certainly is beautiful, but…”
“But what? Oh, I knew you wouldn’t like it!”
“No, No, I love it… it just seems a little out of proportion.”
Artemisia raised one of her eyebrows and crossed her arms, looking into the painting again. “What do you mean ‘It’s out of proportion’?” she asked.
Veronica sighed and approached the painting.
“This big guy with the funny hat is about 10 times bigger than these little fellows in the windows above. Why didn’t you make them all the same size? That would have made sense.”
“Haven’t you ever seen a painting before!” she exclaimed. “The men in the window are smaller because they are supposed to be further back than the guy with the ‘funny hat’.”
“Well why didn’t you make them seem further back then?”
“I did. Can’t you see that they are a little fuzzy and off in the distance? Look at how the wall is behind all of the main figures.”
“I just think that it would make more sense if they were all the same size, that’s all. You made the big guy in the middle much bigger than the men around him too.”
“I was trying to get across his status with the hierarchy of the figures.” Artemisia exclaimed.
“Well I don’t rightly know what all those big words mean, but it looks funny. Let’s just forget about it. So who is this guy anyways?” Veronica gestured towards the man in the center.
“He’s Saint Januaris, the Patron Saint of Naples. He is sentenced to death by a fiery furnace, but he survives so they throw him into a coliseum with lions and bears, but they lick his feet. Finally they just decapitate him.”
“Well why does he still have a head then?”
“He is still in the coliseum!”
“Oh, I get it. So why are you painting the Patron Saint of Naples? We’re in Rome. Shouldn’t you paint the Patron Saint of Rome? That looks like the Coliseum behind him. And why is that dog licking his foot?”
“It isn’t a dog!” claimed Artemisia. “It doesn’t even remotely look like a dog. Look at his whiskers and ears; haven’t you read about Saint Januaris before? And if you must know, I’m painting St. Januaris because the Archbishop of Pozzuoli asked me to.”
“Don’t you feel special?” Veronica replied. “Archbishop of Pozzuoli… you must have done a lot of ‘work’ to get his attention.”
“How dare you! You know I have never done anything of the sort. He’s a man of God for Christ’s sake! Can we just focus on my painting for one moment! You’re mind wanders like that of a child.” Silence overtook them for a few moments as they gazed at the painting.
“I still say it looks like a dog,” Veronica stated.
“It does not look like a dog! I don’t know what kind of dogs you have seen, but they must resemble giant ferocious African cats. And I suppose you think that the bear is a mongoose.”
“No, it’s much too large to be a mongoose.”
“So the mongoose is too large, but the little people are too small.”Veronica gave her a funny look.
“So it is supposed to be a mongoose?”
“NO! It isn’t a Mongoose. I was saying that to be funny. You never answered my question… have you read the story of St. Januaris or not.”
“You know I can’t read. Oh don’t give me that look. You can’t read either, remember?”
“I have been learning, thank you very much. You need learn when to hold you tongue.”
“Since when did you start speaking so proper-like? Trying to move up in the world ‘eh?” and with that Veronica gave a short giggle.
“Do you have any other questions about the painting or not? I wanted you to give me feedback, which is why I showed you.”
“Well, other than the little people and the dog, it seems to be pretty good. I take it he is a Saint from the way he is dressed?”
“I already told you he was a saint Veronica.”
“Well, the manner in which you apostocritate the characters of the scene…”
“Are you mocking me? You’re just jealous that I am actually learning and making a living while you can’t even find a man who will take you!”
“Well if you are going to get pushy about it, I believe that I will leave you and the Archbishop of Pozzuoli to your ‘studying’.” Artemisia looked at the sky as if searching within her brain.
“What does that even mean?” Veronica turned and left without giving her reply, leaving Artemisia alone in the sunlit room. She stared at her painting and sighed, getting out her paints and brushes in the same way that she had done so for years.
“I am going to make sure that no one ever calls my lion a dog again,” she muttered under her breath as she lit into the painting for one last time.

Writing Assignment
I chose to write according to style A because I felt that a conversation between two characters outside of the painting was more realistic than those within the painting. I also felt that it was easier to use the voice of Artemisia and her friend because they are standing in front of her painting, just as we were standing in front of the painting. I also felt that it would be much more of a flow if my characters were not within the painting. The most challenging part of writing dialogue is keeping it interesting. I have found that if you don’t let your mind wander, your dialogue tends to be very boring. I was glad to have a visual work to base my writing off of because whenever I felt that my dialogue was going off track, I merely brought the focus back to the painting. I felt like the biggest difference between Rome and Naples is that in Rome everything is covered with a façade. There are ugly buildings of brick and mildew, but in front there is a huge façade of marble that was created by some famous architect. In Naples, there aren’t any facades. It seemed like the nitty gritty of Italy. I feel that this affected my writing only in that it changed my perceptions. In what way it changed my perceptions, I am not quite sure. I feel that every experience that I have ever had is molding my personality and my perceptions, but I am not always sure how.