As I lather on my paint, the brushstrokes begin. They must be even, precise, and defined. The brush moves rapidly across the canvas. The paint spreads evenly across the surface, covering every blemish, flaw, and scar. As the paint dries, I take a look at myself and admire the work.
“Needs a little color,” I think to myself.
No problem. I grab the pink, shimmery color that has settled to the bottom of my bag and grab a bigger brush. Slowly, I swipe the paintbrush across the corners and edges of the canvas, the definition slowly beginning to form. Taking the bronze color, I play with shadows to form crisp, structured features.
Then, I move to my favorite part. Making it pop. Art is in the eyes of the beholder and the eyes of the beholder are always very important. I take my palette. It feels quite naked in my hands but I shrug the feeling. Twelve beautiful colors. Some shimmery, some matte. I can barely hold my excitement. I take my brush and start with the shimmery. I swipe my brush from the middle corner to outer edge. Then, I take a dark, matte color and add it to the crease. The transition from shimmer to matte must be flawless. I take my blending brush.
“Even circles,” I tell myself as I start to blend.
Finally, I get my perfect picture: the shimmer leading to a smokey finish. To me, it looks like a volcano erupting. To others, it looks like a fire. It’s up to interpretation, I guess.
I finish with two black lines that turn into wings on the page. This is the most impossible step. After all, they must be symmetrical and bold. One misstep and the whole piece is ruined. They must go out and up, with such a defining flare that they must almost look feline. Catty, if you must. After much concentration, I succeed. The wings are finished.
And with that, my masterpiece is complete. I admire my work. Yes, it is ready. With one final look in the mirror, I nod to myself.
“Your makeup looks great.”