SHORT STORY: LONG LEGS

LONG LEGS


I am an artist. Was an artist to be more exact, but I still feel like one. One can't help being an artist and do painting after painting, even if they don't sell and clutter up the whole house.

Not that selling my work was important, what I wanted was to create a new, living world of my own, of my feelings, of me. And that's precisely what I did. That afternoon I did a mono-print of a cabbage tree. An old and tired cabbage tree. A neighbour looked in, smiled, and said: 'That tree looks wise.' So I did another mono-print, this time of some pine trees, those unwanted pine trees which are hunted like criminals in some parts of our fair country. It didn't work out too well. I tried once more. Worse.

It left me rather disappointed. 'One final mono-print,' I thought. 'I must show what I feel. I'll make a print of a disappointed woman. They say women have stronger feelings than men, so that should work all right.'

It drew a nude. A nice figure, lying face down, her long hair hiding her face completely. She had her arms and legs folded under her body, and because of the composition I made her legs extra long, accentuating her hiding face.

After I had pinned the print on the wall to let the ink dry, I couldn't keep my eyes off it. I had to look at it over and over again, until she became uncannily lifelike. In fact she was no longer the mono-print I had just finished, she had started a life of her own. She became a woman whom I had never known before, with her own thoughts and her own ideas.

'Ah, there you are,' she snarled.

'What do you want?'

'Aren't you ashamed of yourself?'

'Ashamed? Whatever for?'

'Yes, ashamed,' and she laughed mockingly.

'Keep quiet you. You are nothing but my own creation.'

'And a nice creator you are.'

I heard laughter all around me. My woodcarvings and limestones, an oil painting on the wall, and even the clay studies laughed at me. And not particularly friendly either.

'Look at my legs. Look at what you have done to my legs!' She was standing in front of me now, still nude and at least a head taller than me.

'Well, I think you have very nice and shapely legs.'

'I bet you do. But why did you have to make them so long? Don't give me that composition nonsense. Oh, yes, very shapely, but how can I ever get properly dressed with those ridiculously long legs. When I go out into town I can never buy a dress to fit, or nice high-heeled shoes, all because of you. And don't you keep staring at me, have you never seen a nude woman before?'

'Just look at me!' a voice from the other side of the room yelled. It was a kauri woodcarving, who had climbed down from her plinth. 'Look at me. My legs are great, but what does that help me if I have no arms?'

'And what about me? It was a limestone figure this time, with an unusually deep sounding voice. 'What about me? My figure is perfect, and my arms and legs really beautiful too. But who would ever love me without a face?'

'Well, what are you going to do about us? You have created us, you are responsible for us,' said the young woman I had carved out of my best piece of kauri. She was sitting beside me on the seat now. I felt uneasy. She was so soft and warm looking. She was very nice indeed, but not to me.

'I . . . I still have a good piece of kauri left. If you'd like, I can carve you a pair of arms?'

'Big deal. You'd like that, wouldn't you?' That was the mono-print woman again. I did not like her, she definitely was not my type. 'I know you can give her new arms, probably even nicer arms than my own. And you'll give your limestone girlfriend a lovely face. I'm sure of that. But how about me? You can't shorten my legs.'

What could I do? How could I escape? I could not tear up that print any more, it was too late to burn the kauri wood. They were standing and sitting around me. Alive. Yes, it was too late now.

'And you can't escape.' That mono-print woman again. 'Just have a good look at us. Where-ever you go we will be with you, always, and when you go into a shop, we will be standing all around you at the counter. With legs too long, and never properly dressed.' 'Wait a moment.' I suddenly had a bright idea. 'I might be able to help you too. I could make another print of you. But I can't work with you all standing around me. Just get me a piece of paper and wait outside the room.'

'But don't try to escape. We won't let you.'

'No, but please leave me alone now. It won't be long, maybe half an hour? Please go now and wait outside the room.'

They really went. Now I had to hurry. This was my only chance. My mind was in turmoil, but my hands steady. Had to be. I took my black crayons, and started the best piece of work I had ever done. The best piece, but the last piece too. I worked like fury, sometimes curiously looking into the mirror. I put my whole life into this last drawing.

They can't hurt me any more now, with their long legs. They can't hurt me any more, now my self-portrait is finished.

I'm one of them now. She had no arms, but I am just a head. A head without a body. Just a head.