Short Story

This was one of my creative writing projects, it was an elective course and the professor butchered me in grading but always liked my ideas. Peace love and light to all.

“My Venus is late.” Titian was thinking to himself. “We have only got about 4 hours of light from the north facing window where my Venus will be tilting her head. The candles are all lit to help with light consistency and reflect shadow but my Venus is not here. Maybe she met a scoundrel of a man on her way here from the convent. Maybe she got lost and cannot find her way to me, I should have sent an escort to her and had her brought to me directly. I would have had my Venus stay in the house with me but my wife Isabella would not allow that to happen, she does not trust me, since that one time. In fact she insists on being present through this entire sitting and all sessions. I will paint a younger version of my Isabella in the background along with my daughter who is always looking for something she misplaced.”

“My Venus is still not here, where could she be?” Titian began pacing the marble floor worrying about Camilla, his Venus. Titian did not hear his wife’s call to breakfast he was so enveloped with worry about the arrival of his Venus. He had scoured Southern Italy in search for his fair haired Venus only to find her while vacationing in the Northern parts of Italy with his family. Camilla had been working in her parent’s café and had waited upon Titian while his wife and daughter were resting at the hotel. Titian had fallen for her grace and beauty the moment he looked upon her and knew he must possess her forever. Convincing Camilla’s parents of Titian’s need for possession of their daughter was a tricky and expensive undertaking. But with the assurances from Isabella and a substantial sum of money it was decided that Camilla would be housed, by special arrangement, at the nearby convent.

“She has finally arrived!” Titian exclaimed excitedly. Titian heard the carriage pulling up outside his front door and all thoughts of despair scurried back to the dark spaces of his mind from which they had crept. Titian threw open the doors of the house as if the Pope himself were coming for a visit. Isabella was watching the events from a landing on the stair that overlooked the foyer and scowled at her husband, “such open displays of emotion, directed at someone he can never possess.” Isabella thought to herself as she watched the events unfold before her feet. “He will ask me to help, this Camilla creature, with her undressing and redressing. I will do as my husband asks because in doing so I can inform this creature to be mindful of my husband’s advances. I cannot handle another scandal the likes of which had happened with the last girl who set foot in this house. I am too old to raise children, especially those that are not my own. But this is so easily done since I come from a large socially unknown family. I just say the new child is from a sister who died during child birth, it happens so often to a lot of women in this age making it easily believable.”

“Isabella? Where are you?” Titian was calling for her. “Isabella!” Titian shouted.

Isabella was brought swiftly back to the present with a shudder and the shouting of her name. “I am here Titian” Isabella called in a brusque voice from her perch on the landing. “You old fool” she thought as she slowly moved down the stairs to welcome her guest and take instructions from Titian. Isabella tried to keep her face from flushing by keeping the strong feelings of disgust, betrayal, and jealousy, for her husband and Camilla, repressed and from seeping through her stony façade. “What is it you wish me to do Titian?” Isabella asked in as soft and pleasing tone as she could muster.

“Isabella, I wish you to take Camilla to the studio and prepare her, and yourself, for painting immediately. Please make sure the candles are still lit and if any have burned out replace them with new ones.” Titian said this without even looking at his wife, he was so engrossed in idolizing worship of Camilla his wife’s grunt in response to the requests he made did not even register.

The well disguised contempt and the grunt of a response to Titian’s requests were not lost on Camilla. The contempt was not so well disguised, Camilla could see the flame and fury in Isabella’s eyes and felt it burn. Camilla understood the ways of women from an early age and she also knew that most men were strangely oblivious to the way women maneuvered and manipulated them, Titian was no exception.

“Come with me” Isabella said to Camilla with a hint of fire behind her words and eyes smoldering. Camilla dutifully followed Isabella to the studio to prepare for a day’s modeling. Inside the studio Isabella directed Camilla to begin undressing. Isabella, in a rough and unpleasant manner, helped Camilla unfasten the back of her dress and helped her undress and wrap herself into a large white silk sheet. Once Camilla was wrapped in white and ready to move to the settee Isabella thrust a branch of red and pink variegated camellias into Camilla’s hand.

Camilla thought while following Isabella to the studio and while undressing - “why does this woman hate me so? Have I done something to offend her? I cannot help it if Titian fixes his eyes upon me and repeats over and over ‘my Venus.’ He knows my name but insists on calling me ‘Venus’ as if I am some Goddess of old. I see the flame in his eyes, a completely different flame than the fire his wife directs at me. His is more a flame of passion or possession. I have seen that flame before in other men’s eyes. Now my portrait is to be painted, how many other men will want to ‘possess’ me? Now I am being led like a blind child to the settee because the sheet covers me from head to toe and I cannot see.”

“Now time for the unveiling of my Venus” Titian said with a hint of giddiness in his voice. “Throw the sheet back and let me have a look at you in the light.” Titian release a sudden gasp of exhilarated pleasure and astonishment. “The camellias are an excellent addition of color” he exclaimed. Titian’s thoughts were racing in all directions but one thought was clear, “I shall paint my Venus first, for she is my focal point and my only desire. The other elements of the painting, Isabella, my daughter, maybe a sleeping dog will be added later so that while I paint them I can focus on my Venus the entire time.”