My name is John, I’m an artist and recently, I’ve been working on my biggest project yet. I think I was originally inspired and turned to the creation of beautiful art by my father. He was an artist too and he practically raised me single handed after my mother left while I was still very young. But my father and I had drifted apart over the last couple of years though. I think he was a little hurt when I had tried to search for my mother. I didn’t mean to make him feel like he hadn’t done enough for me, but I was sure that’s how he’d felt. So we saw less and less of each other, eventually it dwindled to a phone call once or twice a month and an occasional visit. I’d hoped, after I’d given up looking, that we’d go back to how things used to be, but I guess the damage had been done. And now I had practically devoted myself to my project and hadn’t called in months. I sat there in my studio, a glass of wine in hand, admiring the sculpture of my three beautiful, naked women. One woman lain at the feet of the other two as they stood over her, arms raised, and looking to the sky as if asking the gods why?!. All of three them, a glistening dark pewter colour, a simply beautiful vision and yet I didn’t know if I was finished. I certainly remembered how I’d begun…
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