- My arm and wrists ached, but as I steeped back after the last brush stroke I was truly please. I wiped my brow and left behind was a smudge of flesh tone paint to light to be my own. I apprehensively waited a day or two to allow the canvas to dry. Perhaps I was a bit worried. Though I liked it I knew perhaps he may not. I did take pleasure in it's creation. The long strokes needed to enforce the jaw line, the hues applied to allow for muscle tone and that stark look in his eyes that reminded me much of my father.. I so hoped I captured his likeness. Once all was said and done, dried and wrapped in simple parchment, I sent the workings off to him. I send no note. I thought the portrait said it all. -
