Here you have the story that I created for Claire Firth based on the painting called The Music Lesson:
I know that since you went to war you have not received any letter in my own handwriting, and that you did not expect this letter, and not to mention the sketch that I attach you. However, the truth is that I felt compelled to write you because last night I had a dream in which you were the protagonist.
This dream I am talking about was not an ordinary dream but a kind of flashback to what you and I lived a few months ago, before your departure to hostile lands.
Now that I look back in time I realize how much time has passed since the last time we met, and the dream that I had yesterday has much to do with this: last night I dreamt about past times, I dreamt about happier times and about the scenes that you and me starred at your home.
Last night I remembered the day we met for first time; I remembered how my father spoke to yours about me, telling him how virtuous I was and the great skill that I had in arts: in the art of singing, in the art of reciting poetry, in the art of playing the virginal, but above all for, in the art of painting. Being your father fascinated with these virtues, he had no doubt that I would be the perfect wife for his only son and heir, you.
I must admit that at first, the idea of marrying when I was only 17 years old did not satisfy me too much, and much less with a man 10 years older than me. I was rather frightened by I changed my opinion the day that we met for first time:
I remember being nervous and how when we were less than half an hour to arrive to your house and I told my mother in the
carriage that I was still very young. However, she did not care my opinion but the economic benefit that she and my father would obtain by marrying off their eldest daughter with a wealthy man, so she said: “‘Honey, it is law of life!”.
Then we arrived to your house, and you walked out to greet us. That was the first time in which your eyes met mine; a pair of dark brown eyes as big and deep that it was very easy to be succumbed to them, and that’s when I realized that I already loved you.
You bow and you held out your hand to me with exquisite manners, I was still nervous, but this time the feeling that I had was different: This time my nerves were made me to be impatient, to want to be alone with you and in that way to give me the chance to know more about you; these nerves were nerves of curiosity, I think that these were nerves of love.
And then came the most important moment. You invited me to walk into a not very big room, but very well lit up. A room in which every detail was important: the table, the carpet, the marble floor… However, I only paid attention to one element, to the musical instrument that was near the table on which your maid had left a pitcher of water because as I can remember, that was an extremely hot day.
I also remember how you did not try to stop me and that you let me to seat in front of the virginal, and that was when I started playing one of my favorite pieces and meanwhile, you were just listening to my music, and enjoying my art.
Well, my last night´s dream was about this scene, about our first meeting, about this room, about this virginal and about that feeling of calm that I had when I looked into your eyes and saw that you were going to be my future husband. Nevertheless,
whenever I think of you, I not only remember this pretty mental image, but I also remember the day on which you opened this damned letter sent by the King. I understand that the King wanted every man in the country to go to war, but I cannot understand how he will not exclude you just because as is well known by all, you are incapable to harm anybody.
I remember also how I thought that my world was falling apart this day, the same day in which you gave me my first kiss. I remember that I was angry with you and I that I tried to forget you, but it was impossible because you also appeared in my deepest dreams. However, my anger disappeared last night with the dream, and because now I have realized that they forced you to go to war, that you did not want it, that you wanted to stay with me.
Therefore, I include this little sketch that I have done this morning while drinking a cup of coffee on the terrace of my room. It’s just a small picture of us on our first date; so that wherever you are do not forget me, because I will be waiting until you come back. I will be waiting you with love.
I hope you like this small gift as well as this letter and I hope also we meet soon to play music together.
With all my love,