This post is not, and I cannot stress this enough, any form of relationship counselling ;)
Basil was The Second Great Love Of My Life. Like any artistically inclined soul in love, I lifted my Second Greatest Love Of My Life onto pedestal and passionately photographed every part of his body. I drew his profile so often that I could probably still sketch his face without much difficulty.
Not only that, but for a long time Basil was the subject and source of inspiration for my sculptures. Heads, busts and even the whole silhouette - Second Greatest Love Of My Life was the perfect model. Every inch of his skin was worshipped and every story from his past admired and used with the utmost respect as the factual basis for my next art - works. Basil -as my main model - became a regular visitor to our departmental studio, he knew not only the professors but also my fellow students of the year.
The second year of study was slowly coming to an end, and we were choosing new 'adult' studios - with professors who would guide us until we graduated. I was in a very good mood - because not only was I in love with the Greatest Man On The Face of The Earth, but I had managed to get a nice job - an internship for the summer - working in a tiny art gallery in Zurich. I have a cousin who lives in Wollerau(a town near Zurich), who generously agreed to give me a corner to sleep in and a desk to write my love letters.
The work itself was pretty boring most of the time - I just sat and stared at the visitors. The only exciting moments were when the author on display changed - the paintings/photographs or sculptures had to be framed, light up, an inventory made, sometimes even a cubicle or picture frame repaired(yes, there were accidents in transit :D). The days passed quickly. My shift was very long - from opening to closing the gallery(10am - 8pm), and I only had one day off - Monday, when most museums and galleries are closed. So I spent Mondays exploring the area and talking for hours with the Second Great Love Of My Life(do any of you remember Skype? Anyone still using it??).
After a two month holiday break(work :D) I came back to Poland. Actually, from the very beginning I noticed that something was off. Basil had become very withdrawn, quiet and very moody. Very quickly I had to come to terms with the fact that the Second Greatest Love Of My Life had just become a thing of the past. On our shared computer I found a picture of Basil with a girl. A girl disturbingly similar to me, only with a different hair colour. A girl disturbingly
similar to me only a bit.... younger.
It turns out that even at 23 you can be 'too old' for the Second Greatest Love Of My Life.
So the relationship fell apart and I was left with an artistic output that could have been signed 'All Shades of Basil'.
Instead of despair (at least at first), I was consumed by rage. Anger filled every nook and cranny of my being. Hatred was the content of my dreams and woke me up at the crack of dawn. I was boiling inside.
I missed the first few classes with the new professor, in the main sculpture studio. When I finally turned up - everyone was already working over their first project, and I had only rage and emptiness in head, nothing more. For nearly two years I photographed, sculpted and drew one face. And I had that face in front of my eyes all the time, only with a big target mark on his forehead.
I sat down in the studio and cried. For the first time since the break-up. The tears were so hot and salty that they burned my cheeks. I was swallowing tears all snotty and couldn't calm down. And then my friend from the studio brought me a sculpture of the head of the Former Second Greatest Love of My Life, cast in plaster. It was the first sculpture representing Basil that I had done.
I opened my toolbox and pulled out a hammer. When I took a swing to smash the plaster likeness of the Second Greatest Failure of My Life - I froze. I thought to myself, this is too quick and merciful a death for the Second Greatest Failure of My Life.
I took the saw in my hand and started cutting the head into pieces. The plaster was really hard to cut, but my hatred energised me. When Basil was already in three pieces, the Professor came into the room.
-Oh, so you have a vision after all, hm? - she asked.
-Maybe not a vision, but a goal.
I wish every unfaithful partner the same poetical end.
I wish you a beautiful weekend and honest partners.
Yours,
Strega Azure
P.S. Only plaster sculpture was hurt, I promise:)
then 'tanned' with a heat gun(hence the discolouration).
A wood saw was used for cutting (never, ever use a wood saw on plaster!).
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