Nina à la Kandinsky

How else does an artist tell the woman he loves how deep that love goes, especially when circumstances have put six thousand miles between you, and little likelihood of that distance ever being breached? How else, except by painting her in her truest colours, all the art (she loves art and is very talented), all the architecture (it's how she earns her living), all the colour (sun and life and light and vibrancy), all the beauty (she cheats: she dyes her hair, she does gym daily, she juices and does organic foods), all the intelligence (see the last phrase on this page).

But then circumstances broke us up, and if the relationship has to remain unfinished, so does the portrait. I sent it to her as a birthday card the year we parted, still best friends, just an ocean and a lot of my ill-health apart. I told her, it's unfinished. She agreed.

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