Contemplation, Catarina And The Other.

I used to frequent the art studios. Rhonda would go with me because she knew where everything was. I used to draw back then. I was in need of some charcoal. While there, Rhonda elbowed me and drew in close to tell me there were two men staring at me. I just rolled my eyes. I got my charcoal, paid for them, stared at the men in passing and left.

I had been told that I was always watched by a lady in the shop across from where I worked after teaching school. To me it seemed to begin to be ridiculous. I was not who I was to draw attention to myself. I can understand that I stood out in a new city. I didn’t look like the British women. I didn’t dress like them. They seemed to always be talking while stuffing food in their mouths as they walked. They appeared happy so who am I to say anything different. But it seemed like I was followed, being watched.

Rhonda and I went to Hanley to the art studio there. It had a little bit more of a selection. I picked up my pastels there. I had not been to Hanley so we walked around. I knew then not to wear my pumps on the cobblestone streets. Yet we had a great time and stopped at a bistro for a bite to eat then back to our town.

The next day I stopped into Rhonda’s work to see if she wanted to go check out watercolors with me. I told her I had seen Brian, her husband, earlier and he was going to meet us for lunch. She took an extra long lunch and we went to our local art gallery again. I only got a small amount of watercolor because of not knowing if I would do well with them. The two men were there again. My first thought was to go over to them and ask them if I was going to be having a problem with them but thought better of it. We left, yet we were watched as we walked up to the bistro. We met up with Brian and had a great lunch. She told Brian how I was being watched. He asked if I wanted to speak to the police and I said no. They did not look like what they called yabos.

Months after I went into the art gallery to get a new eraser. Someone asked me a question and when I turned to answer, it was one of those men. It was Gordon King. I had heard of him. He started talking to me then asked if I would pardon him, he needed to make a call. After a while, the other man came to where I was. His name was Douglas Hofmann. They asked if I would join them in the sitting area for a drink. I agreed knowing there were plenty of people around. They apologized for staring at me. I asked them if I reminded them of someone. What they said next just about knocked me off of my seat. They wanted to paint me. I asked them a lot of questions, got my answers and told them I really had to think about it. I told them I taught at school and did not need to be noticed. They assured me I would have certain things changed so not to be noticed. I thanked them for my tea and left. I have to admit I had a smile on my face. Not because I thought I was anything special but as I put it, “Whoda thunk”.

I met with them a couple of weeks later only because of running into them while at the markets. I agreed to pose. As long as my requests were met. I went on my way while thinking, “Girl what in hell are you thinking”. I have never shied away from my sexuality. I have never flaunted it but I have never shied away from it. This was my Aha moment. My coming into myself. A new chapter.

About a month later I was to do what I figured would be my first and only painting. He could tell I was a bit nervous yet, I just didn’t think about me being nude. I went with how freeing it felt. Nudity was quite the norm in the Uk. Almost through it, Gordon said he was going to name his painting of me Contemplation. I did not say anything at first but finally asked why. He told me I was going to contemplate doing another. I raised an eyebrow to that. This one was me. Nothing done to disguise me but I did not think it looked like me. It had a more feminine touch to it and I was no girly girl. I made him promise that it would not be put in the storefront windows as other works of art were done. And I have to admit, it did come out good. I also have to admit I was contemplating. He said with the next one, I would be disguised. I told him I would think about it. When he showed me this painting, I was proud of it.

Less than a month later, I was asked to prepare for the second painting. It was a little more daring. And he certainly changed it up. There was more of a brown color added to my hair. He gave me some bangs and my nose, all I could think of was that it would have made a nice ski jump. He had me holding up a sketch he had done and he even had me with a smile. And as usual when he was almost done he would tell me the name of his painting. This time I was Catarina. I wondered if he had a Catarina in his life at one time and I reminded him of her. I did not ask any further. After getting dressed and looking at it, I was not impressed at all. Of course, I would not be, the face was not mine. He had really done a good job of disguising it with the different hair color and OMG that nose. Doug came to see me before I left and asked when I was ready for his painting. I just looked at him and said, “Say what?” I did not know he wanted to paint me. We sat and talked about it. He wanted me to be more daring. I really had to think about that.

I did my first painting with Doug. He had the same girls work with him on this painting that Gordon had used previously. They asked me if I had ever used henna in my hair. I knew nothing about it. They said, and I will remember their words until the day I die, “It will wash right out”. What a bunch of ballocks that was. They had blow-dried and made my hair look thick by adding products and curling it. The painting was a bit more revealing. I got dressed and looked at it and I was pleasantly surprised. I had always wanted dark hair with dark eyebrows and lashes but it was not to be in the cards for me. I saw evidence of me working in my garden back home in the nude. I did not have one tan line. I thanked him and told him I was all done posing. I would not know what to expect next and I felt I had exposed enough of myself.

Fast forward to May 6 of 2020. For the heck of it, I went onto the art gallery page and looked to see if anything caught my eye. There I was in…..ahem……all my glory shall I say. I did not know what to think. I certainly did not want to be on the internet. I called the art studio and told them I wanted to buy that painting and have it sent to my friend’s home in the USA. It was Phil that had answered the phone. We chatted back and forth and he said, “Is this Rhetta?” I said that it was. We talked for a while. They had moved their studio to where I taught school. I guess a lot had changed back there. I told him I did not realize I was on the internet so wanted to buy the painting to get it off. He said it was a very popular painting. I asked him what that meant and he told me that they took all of their most popular paintings and turned them into lithographs. I had not a clue what that was. He told me to google it, that it would be easier to understand that way. but reclining nude was one of the most popular and was ranked as number one at that time. I then did a google search and there I was in all my glory. I could have shit myself. There was no way I could buy all of those and even if I could, there would be more produced. I was really having a WTF moment. That painting was expensive.

I remembered the horror of the henna that was put on my hair. I had had such pretty, healthy hair but the henna made it unbelievably thick and unruly. And it did not “just wash out”. I had a lot of explaining to do to people I worked with. I just let them think I was stupid in allowing someone to put henna on my hair which in all actuality, I was. Ian, my boss looked at me in disgust when I walked into work that Monday. There were no words said at home. Only hateful looks. My hairdressers had been quite busy trying to get me back to my blonde. I just let my hair grow and kept having them work on it to get rid of the henna. I did not realize how long my hair had gotten. Rhonda and Julienne had taken pictures of it and when I saw it, I could not believe it. I am just happy that eventually all of the henna was finally out of my hair. It took a lot of highlighting and treatments but it was gone. In the end before coming back home, I had it cut up to my chin.

I have to admit that sometimes I looked at my painting and wished I was back in that shape again but I knew I would never let anyone put henna in my hair, ever. I did get the painting shipped here and left at a friends place. My husband would have had a fit knowing what I had done. I just about shit myself at the cost of the painting and the cost of shipping it here. And as luck would have it, as my friend who said they would keep the painting for me, and I had just driven past his house, the painting had been delivered and left on his porch steps. Sheer panic I felt thinking that the tree street neighborhood could have seen it if anyone had opened it to look at it. My friend stopped, put it in his house then we went back to where he worked and I left in my car to go home. I had brought me home, sort of.