The World Behind the Door Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Mike Resnick
bat taste better when I am older?" asked Jinx.
      "I do these things to be regarded with awe, not to be imitated," said Dali.
      "I thought you painted to be regarded with awe."
      "That, too," he said. "You've had a few minutes to look at them. What do you think?"
      "These are good," she said, indicating his two most recent efforts.
      "Thank you," said Dali, surprised that he actually cared about a young girl's opinionâand such a strange girl from such a strange place. To his surprise, he briefly found himself wondering if she was even real.
      "Yes," she said. "Nice use of color. Excellent brush strokes. They are very good first efforts."
      "I beg your pardon!" said Dali heatedly.
      "Why?" she asked innocently. "They don't offend me. They show great promise." She paused. "I wish I knew why men had such an overwhelming urge to paint naked women."
      "Suppose you tell me what's wrong with them?" said Dali, trying to control his temper.
      "With naked women?" she asked.
      "With the paintings."
      "Don't you know?" said Jinx.
      Dali stared at the paintings, and all the energy seemed to leave him. He slumped down on a chair, deflated. "Of course I know," he said. "They are exquisite examples of the mundane. They are fine displays of the current state of painting on the European Continent, and they could have been painted by any of fifty men I could name."
      "See?" she said with a smile. "You do know."
      "Knowing what's wrong is a far cry from knowing how to improve them," said Dali unhappily.
      "True," she said. "But it's a first stepâand like they say, every journey begins with one."
      "I am already in my twenties," he replied. "If it has taken me this long to take one step, how am I ever to achieve anything of lasting value?"
      "Maybe we can help each other," suggested Jinx. "Maybe while I am learning from you, you can learn from me."
      "But you're just a child."
      "Perhaps I am," she admitted. "But I knew what was wrong with your paintings, and I am sure you will know how to help me become a painter."
      "Let me ask you a question," said Dali.
      "Ask anything you want."
      "Why do you want to become a painter?"
      She considered her answer for a moment, then spoke: "Part of it is because art lasts . If I am a good painter, people will admire my work long after I am dead, and I find that comforting." Suddenly a guilty smile crossed her freckled face. "But I suppose the real reason is that painting makes me happy. Not just putting colors on a piece of canvas, but painting something that's meaningful to me, that would never have been painted quite that way by anyone else. That makes me happy."
      "You are wise beyond your years, young Jinx," said Dali admiringly.
      "Why do you paint, Salvador?"
      "I am not totally sure," he replied. "I paint to make money, of course, and to become famous, but that is a given. I think the real reason I paint is perhaps the exact opposite of yours. You wish to capture the images of things that are unique to you; I wish to expunge them from my soul, and capture them on canvas, with everything the word 'capture' implies. Once there, they cannot invade my subconscious again. Or at least that is what my friend Freud would say."
      "But I sense you also want to be the best," she said. "That you are unhappy with anything less than
      "I do these things to be regarded with awe, not to be imitated," said Dali.
      "I thought you painted to be regarded with awe."
      "That, too," he said. "You've had a few minutes to look at them. What do you think?"
      "These are good," she said, indicating his two most recent efforts.
      "Thank you," said Dali, surprised that he actually cared about a young girl's opinionâand such a strange girl from such a strange place. To his surprise, he briefly found himself wondering if she was even real.
      "Yes," she said. "Nice use of color. Excellent brush strokes. They are very good first efforts."
      "I beg your pardon!" said Dali heatedly.
      "Why?" she asked innocently. "They don't offend me. They show great promise." She paused. "I wish I knew why men had such an overwhelming urge to paint naked women."
      "Suppose you tell me what's wrong with them?" said Dali, trying to control his temper.
      "With naked women?" she asked.
      "With the paintings."
      "Don't you know?" said Jinx.
      Dali stared at the paintings, and all the energy seemed to leave him. He slumped down on a chair, deflated. "Of course I know," he said. "They are exquisite examples of the mundane. They are fine displays of the current state of painting on the European Continent, and they could have been painted by any of fifty men I could name."
      "See?" she said with a smile. "You do know."
      "Knowing what's wrong is a far cry from knowing how to improve them," said Dali unhappily.
      "True," she said. "But it's a first stepâand like they say, every journey begins with one."
      "I am already in my twenties," he replied. "If it has taken me this long to take one step, how am I ever to achieve anything of lasting value?"
      "Maybe we can help each other," suggested Jinx. "Maybe while I am learning from you, you can learn from me."
      "But you're just a child."
      "Perhaps I am," she admitted. "But I knew what was wrong with your paintings, and I am sure you will know how to help me become a painter."
      "Let me ask you a question," said Dali.
      "Ask anything you want."
      "Why do you want to become a painter?"
      She considered her answer for a moment, then spoke: "Part of it is because art lasts . If I am a good painter, people will admire my work long after I am dead, and I find that comforting." Suddenly a guilty smile crossed her freckled face. "But I suppose the real reason is that painting makes me happy. Not just putting colors on a piece of canvas, but painting something that's meaningful to me, that would never have been painted quite that way by anyone else. That makes me happy."
      "You are wise beyond your years, young Jinx," said Dali admiringly.
      "Why do you paint, Salvador?"
      "I am not totally sure," he replied. "I paint to make money, of course, and to become famous, but that is a given. I think the real reason I paint is perhaps the exact opposite of yours. You wish to capture the images of things that are unique to you; I wish to expunge them from my soul, and capture them on canvas, with everything the word 'capture' implies. Once there, they cannot invade my subconscious again. Or at least that is what my friend Freud would say."
      "But I sense you also want to be the best," she said. "That you are unhappy with anything less than
Similar Books
LONTAR issue #1
Jason Erik Lundberg (editor)
Lightfall
Paul Monette
The Kings' Mistresses
Elizabeth Goldsmith
The O.D.
Chris James
Barcode: Legend of Apollo
Kashif Ross
Precious Gifts
Danielle Steel
Malinche
Laura Esquivel
Einstein's Underpants--And How They Saved the World
Anthony McGowan
Vampire Dancing
J. K. Gray
A Loyal Character Dancer
Qiu Xiaolong