The Artist and the Model

The artist is an old sculptor who is an intimate of Matisse, Derain, and others.  He is famous throughout Europe.  Now, at the end of his life, he has found one final model to inspire him.  She is a resistance fighter in WWII and has taken shelter in his studio.  One day while the two of them are eating lunch, he explains the evidence he believes supports the existence of God.  God, he says, created Woman first, not Adam.  He created her so that he might have company in the universe, someone to look at and hold.  Adam, he says, was their offspring, and there was only one rule, but Adam broke that when he made love to his mother.  Cain and Abel were the fruits of their rebellion.

That, my friends, is the only explanation of God and the Universe that has ever made a bit of sense to me.  I can believe in that one.

After his final sculpture is finished, the model leaves for the south and his wife goes to see after her ailing sister.  The Model and the Artist's Wife travel halfway together.  And the artist, sitting alone in his garden looking at his final work, puts the shotgun to his head.

All I am saying.

It is more complicated than that, though.  His wife had once been his model, too, and she had been in demand by all the artists.  It is his wife who understands his passion and who brings the final model to him.

Toward the end, the old artist gets an erection while looking at the model.  The next day when he goes to the studio, she is still in bed.  She looks at him.  He goes to her and caresses her body.  She looks into his eyes.

Cut.

Obviously, this was written by a man with a man's fantasy of life.  But being one, I don't completely object.

What is life, however, without beautiful women?  I'll have to ask someone.  It is something I've never known.