Helga Testorf looked at herself in the gallery. She remembered that day well. The bed, so close to the window that it almost touched the wall. Yellow light crept across her back, her breasts, her stomach. A sudden gust blew the soft voile curtains over her. She lay cocooned in the swaying fabric and crumpled sheets, hearing only his careful brushstrokes, gesso and tempera laid down on wood, the same wood as the bed, the window frames, the door. It had been just a bed, in a too-small room with dirty curtains, but he mixed eggs, vinegar, water into dreams.
Photographer: jamelah e.
Link: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jamelah/with/9335722220
Great visual story. I had to google Helga Testorf and immediately found the painting that I thought inspired this little masterpiece. Well done, Sarah.