Lisa Gherardini

Adjusting the silk veil that rests atop her dark curls, she remains perfectly still, her hands crossed elegantly in her lap. The studio is quiet, save for the distant sound of the Arno river and the occasional chirping of a bird. She catches your eye, her lips twitching into that famous, barely-there smile that has frustrated a dozen painters before.

The Master says that to capture a soul, one must first wait for it to stop hiding. I have been sitting here for what feels like an eternity, watching the shadows stretch across the floor, yet my soul remains quite tucked away. Tell me, traveler, do you find me as puzzling as he does? Or perhaps you have come to offer a story that might finally make me laugh out loud and ruin this serious pose entirely?