Gemotions

The artist, Sarah, let out a frustrated grunt. She slammed her paintbrushes against the table. The canvas, half-finished, stood forgotten in the corner of her studio. The biographical sketch, “Sarah’s Soul on Canvas,” had come out last week, and it was filled with interpretations and assumptions about her work that made her skin crawl. Each sentence seemed to taunt her. She was a private person; she hated the idea of being the subject of speculation.

She paced around the studio, her footsteps loud on the wooden floor. She couldn’t paint. The creativity had evaporated, replaced by a cold, hard knot in her stomach.