The Veil

I have been working on the wedding portrait for about 9 months now. That is 8 months and 27 days longer than I have worked on any painting. There are periods of many weeks when I turn the portrait to the wall so that I can look at it with fresh eyes when I turn it back. Otherwise, I reach a point where I just see what I want to see so I can be done with it. I knew I was doomed when I took on this project. I am not a portrait artist and while what I paint will indeed appear human, I am pretty sure my son and daughter in law are hoping for something a tad beyond that minimum standard.

I have never seen a portrait of someone I know that looks just like them. Unless of course the artist cheats. That means they project an image on the canvas from a photograph. Of course the portrait looks photographic then. In essence, it is! In my eyes, that is paint by number, and I have no interest in that. I would rather send my beloveds a portrait that has a vague resemblance, a shared genome at least to their dear faces that truly developed from my hand. However, I know that it is highly unlikely that they will see the painting and feel like they are looking in a mirror. The best I can hope for it is that someday it will grow to resemble them.

That does happen. My mom  had a portrait of her painted when she was in her twenties. I remember as a chlld thinking it looked nothing like her. But now when I look at it, I see my mom. I see gentleness, intelligence, and patience, and quiet optimism in tender grey eyes, sparkling with the dreams and hopes of the children she peacefully ushered into the world. I see strength and dignity, and kindness. It is a wonderful portrait. If I could make my wedding portrait of my son and new daughter gleam with that kind of soul, I will be satisfied.

Yesterday, I got the photograph of Karissa's veil. I nag her every few weeks for some other piece of the wedding paraphernalia so I can paint it in.
"Karissa, what earrings will you be wearing?"
"Can I let you know after I get the wedding dress?"
"Oh....well ok. You only have a year to go. I suggest you hop on it!  Well ok, if you haven't settled on the earrings, how about the color of your lipstick?"
When I can judge from her reply that she may not marry my son if I send one more email, I back off. With now just 2 months to go til the wedding, I feel justified in asking for details.
"Forget studying for your stupid college finals, Karissa. What color ribbon will be on your flowers.... and what side of the tux will Matt's boutonniere be on?"
So using such grace and tact, I got the picture of the veil and then stood at my canvas  trembling. If I mess up the veil, all the beautiful painstaking background around 2/3rds of her body will also need to be redone. I have to get the veil right the first time.

Asherel walked in.
"Oh, that's very nice! But you need to keep adding more veil. Right now it looks like saran wrap."
"I don't dare," I groaned.
"Well fine, don't, but then she looks like an egg salad about to be wrapped at the deli."
That would not evoke the timeless soul  I had hoped to permeate the canvas. I squeezed out some more paint. I did a little research into portrait painting while I was at it. I read the blog of one acclaimed portrait painter, as well as her "tips and techniques" section. She recommended adding painstaking layer by layer, letting each layer dry thoroughly. It is a time-intensive process, but it allows the flesh to glow, as in the paintings of the Masters. By accident, that is what I have been doing. I am not sure the painting glows like a DaVinci or Rembrandt, however.

It occurs to me that this is similar to how people's faces develop in reality as well. As infants, our faces are smooth mush. Cute mush perhaps, but still unlined with experience or knowledge or wisdom that seems to only come with the trials of life. Day by day, year by year, layer by layer, our character grows and our face begins to reflect what we are within. My mom always said that when you are old, you get the face you deserve. Or someone said that. Maybe it was me.

And while I was thinking about faces, I began to think about veils. Part of my trepidation in painting Karissa's veil is that her skin is so porcelain, her dress so exquisite, her face so lovely. Why would anyone want to hide any of that beneath a veil? I think the veil became part of the wedding ceremony because if the groom were to see his bride striding towards him with her glowing, hopeful face in full veiw, we might see a lot more grooms passing out in the wedding ceremony. The veil is for their protection.

When Moses came down from speaking with God, he had to wear a veil over his face too. The shining reflection, the after-glow of his encounter with God was too blazing for the Israelites to look upon. His face glowed with the radiance of God. That is the face I want.

I added the final diaphanous touch of white, and called Asherel back in.
"That's good!" she said.
I put away my brushes before I ruined it. 

Exodus 34:29-35
 ²⁹ When Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the two tablets of the covenant law in his hands, he was not aware that his face was radiant because he had spoken with the LORD. ³⁰ When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, his face was radiant, and they were afraid to come near him. ³¹ But Moses called to them; so Aaron and all the leaders of the community came back to him, and he spoke to them. ³² Afterward all the Israelites came near him, and he gave them all the commands the LORD had given him on Mount Sinai.  ³³ When Moses finished speaking to them, he put a veil over his face. ³⁴ But whenever he entered the LORD’s presence to speak with him, he removed the veil until he came out. And when he came out and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, ³⁵ they saw that his face was radiant. Then Moses would put the veil back over his face until he went in to speak with the LORD.