The Key West citizen. [volume] (Key West, Fla.) 1879-current, 1943-06-21
TODAY I saw
By DELIGHT YoUNcs


A slip of a girs not more than
twenty-five, with the dark hair,
clear olive skin and small, fine
boned features that bespoke of
Spanish ancestry Intelligence and
animation were as wildly drawn
on her pretty face as were the
brush strokes on her canvas. Yet
lovely, young and vital as she was,
Ishe sat alone, on a camp stool, in
the shade of a grey, weather
beaten old building and placidly
put paint upon cloth. The life
of the artist. like the life of the
writer, is necessarily a lonely one.
| And glancing at the velvet-eyed
young lady before me, it seemed
lregrettable, somehow, that it had
to be so.
There is always much loneli-
ness. even when the world is at its
best. In a world at war, it is more
widespread and the hurt of it is
much deeper, for it contains not
only the quality of self-pity, but
the quality-in tremendous guam
tity-of doubt. Doubt of self, of
superiors, of human wisdom and
compassion, and of the general
Brightness of things. 1t is because
loneliness leads to mental depres-
sion affecting the thoughts, ac-
tions and reactions of the subject.
that churches, clubs, theatres, ball
parks, even barrooms, have, as an
antidote for melancholia an espe-
| cially valued place in society to-
day. l
However, the artist, in her
| aloneneSs, seemed not at all lone
lly. As / walked down the dusty
road toward her. could see only
| the top of her hair and the back
of her easel. So deeply engressed
lin her work was she that had the
sforsaken corner been busy shop
lping center, she would have been
fobvious to the passersby. Interest
and curiosity having got the bet
tier of discretion. / turned after
/ passing, and retraced my steps
This time facing the easel. AT first
| glance, / saw only a revelry OF
colors. But as ! drew nearer, the
Irowdy, flame-colored beauty OF
lPoinciana trees took form, en-
hanced and glorified by the def
Icasting of sunlight and shadow. In
1.-THE background could be seen q
quaint old tumble-down house, 9
sagging picket fence, and farther
taway, in the right-hand corner
1.-THE blue waters of the Gulf of Mex
lico:
| TT is beautiful" / said, only
half-aloud.
81 am glad you think so. See
| she. pointed diagonally across the
Eroad to the original scene-'doe:
Sit lock like that?"
| "Yes, only more so. If you know
| what I mean"
j We laughed and she begar
cleaning her pallet and brushe:
| preparatory to putting them away
do you spend much time paint
iing?" / inquired.
"Oh, yes. Much. Every day. L
| is my life-all I live for, really.
] That seemed a strange way FOL
Ia lovely and talented girl to talk
| And wondered why she appar'
| entity was disinterested in tint
i things that usually interest young
i folks most-dancing, dates, music
| laughter, parties. Had she beer
| disappointed in love, or perhaps
i been disillusioned by an unhappy
/ early marriage? / couldn't bellevt
i it was either of these, however
| for she seemed not the least EN-
Filtered.
1 A freshening breeze raised tiny
: dust clouds in the road and blue
| and yellow butterfly fluttered u
| rest on the top of the easel. Ths
Il girl was a story and | wantee
| to know more about her.
"Your talent is unmistakable ane
lit would be selfish to withhold l
lor neglect it., But -. Don't yot
lever get lonely? Feel sort OF LEI
Iout of things?"
| 81 used to when l was a child
but not any more. / used to CRY
because 1 couldn't play with the
Ineighborhood gang. | wanted to &C
| swimming with them; to ride
bike and climb trees for coconuts
Ii think more than anything else
in the world, / wanted to be tom
boy. But / don't mind any more
| / have my art"
| She stood up then and moved
to pack her equipment. And saw
her poor, thin, pitifully crippled
| legs-the black curse of infantile
| paralysis. A choking lump rose in
| my throat and / swallowed hare
| to hold back a tear. / thought o.
| all those healthy, able-bodiec
people one meets every day whit
complain of being lonesome, blue
Biding for sympathy right ane
left.
/ And l recalled Chinese pro
lverb I had read somewhere. Ions