Iris tuned out the trampers with a fancy brushing motion-the key was to narrow her focus, and tune our distractions...paint the bridge as it ought to be, as it was and could be again, if her Dream came true...
Damon silently observes the painter's canvas from a respectful distance.
The canvas in its half finished state resembles a strange window into another world-a world that still has clear blue skies and sparkling water. Instead of a rotting span that exists beyond, what is coming into view seems to be a tidy bridge of oiled and smoothed wooden planking-cunningly worked to fold out from the cliffside in a single smooth motion, with sturdy ropes stretching the entire length.
Iris's hands seem to work the canvas like dipping a brush in a pool of water-each touch sends waves through the canvas, adding new effects and enhancing the ones there. As she watches, Iris seems to consider the figures slouching toward them, and begins to add a pair of fisherwomen. The pair is well dressed in sturdy and clean peasant wear-thick wool coats and hoods, and long colorful skirts that ripple playfully in the wind. One is using the left side of the bridge as a place to anchor her long willow rod (its polished surface gleams in the mid-day sun), and the other using a sharp silver knife to clean a fish with lazy efficiency-no doubt passing the time til their hard working husbands come back to them end of the day, their tridents having earned a bounty of the sea. After the Artists attention turns away, the pair grows animated-making no noise, but making all the movements one would expect of living people-laughing, nodding, smiling...watching Iris paint does wonders, at least, for the imagination.
Action: No movement, might as well finish painting