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me at that time.
I set the cameras up by the laptop and went to get some lunch. As I ate, I leafed through some of the magazines Id picked up in town. The copy of Arts and Artists was the brand new issue and there was a lot of information about new shows, new galleries, new artists, etc. I read through them and circled some things I wanted to get back into. As I turned a page, I almost screamed. The lead picture on the article was my neighbor. "Of course," I yelled. "Damn it, why didnt I recognize her?" Auburn hair framed her face beautifully and those blue-green eyes seemed to burn directly into mine. Her smile was so genuine and beautiful that I wanted to kiss her. I turned to the first page of the article and read that Jennifer Finch had seemingly disappeared on a well deserved vacation. Rumor had it that she was hiding in the high country in either Colorado or Wyoming. "Wrong," I said. "Shes right next door."
Jennifer Finch..artist..photographer...gifted pianist..was right next door and I wasnt allowed to meet her. Holy shit, it just wasnt fair. Shed just finished a very successful showing at the Drake Gallery in New York and an unknown collector was negotiating to buy "GIRL IN THE AIRE," a figure study of a nude girl with her body seemingly flying toward the clouds. It was a stunning piece and one that she had said she might not sell at all. If she sold it, the price would be in the millions. Id loved it the very first time I saw it. In fact, I had a print ordered from Comstocks, an on-line purveyor of fine quality prints and art work. It would take me years to pay it off, but it was worth every penny.
"Oh my god," I moaned. I had watched Jennifer Finch masturbate and to make it worse, I masturbated right along with her.
Lilly was right. I really wanted to meet her now, but Im a fanatic about the value of respecting ones privacy and that extended to Jennifer Finch. Perhaps the reason for her joy this morning was in knowing that she could get whatever she wanted for "Girl in the Aire."
It was certainly going to change the way I looked at her from now on. What a privilege to be able to see her naked, knowing that she was just a couple hundred feet away from me at that very minute.
By the end of that week, Id taken hundreds of photos, and several hours of video and lined up along my studio wall were a dozen charcoal nudes in various poses, and two watercolors. On my easel was another water color that was going to be at least one of my favorites. Leaning against a chair was the start of a colored pencil sketch of what I hoped would be my "interpretive study" when I was done.
I had one watercolor
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completed that was a large piece. It was the pose she took when she stretched skyward the first time I watched her. I was very pleased with the color choices and the way I drew her. It was certainly the most sensuous piece Id ever done but I wasnt sure how it would go over since her slit was well defined.
I had more than enough photos I spent the next few days working and masturbating , either with her, or in front of the TV while her pictures and videos drove me to it. I needed to get started on the sculpture but I dont like to work in more than one medium at a time. Besides, I hadnt decided what photo I would use.
I got the interpretive study done and loved it. More importantly, I knew that Professor Whitlow would love it. I put it on a small table, leaning it against the wall where I could see it and enjoy it. The watercolor of the first pose Id chosen sat on another small table on the opposite end of the wall. I didnt want to compare them.
I decided to use charcoal for the second medium and I had a lot to choose from, so it was time to face the challenge of the sculpture. It was incredibly frustrating. The clay was too wet, the clay was too dry, the clay was....whatever.
"Damn it," I yelled, after the clay just wouldnt hold the shape I wanted. I balled it up and threw it into the pail and just sat there. It was my last challenge and it was my hardest. I was covered with clay, my hair was a stringy mess from where I kept pushing it back, and I felt like hell.
The sound of someone knocking at my door brought me to my feet quickly. Who the hell could that be? I wasnt sure if I should go to the door or not. What if it was some pervert? I had no way to defend myself and I was too exhausted to even try.
I eased the door open and stood in shock to see Jennifer standing there, her lovely smile sending shock waves through me that had me quivering. She wore a simple white summer dress over her bikini and she looked delicious.
What was she going to say when she saw my work? It was too late to hide everything. I knew that she had the capability to make all my work so far be for nothing. Most of all though, was the fact that in seeing my work, she would know that Id been spying on her. Oh my god, what was I going to do?
For several days, I had studied, photographed, and lusted after my famous neighbor. She was, at once, artist, photographer and gifted pianist, who demanded that her privacy be protected. Id respected that privacy wish, though I dreamt of meeting her in person. When she tanned nude, so did I.
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