An Encounter with Picasso

The Brisbane campus library recently organised a story telling competition for Martin College and Embassy CES students. The winner, Chen Pei Ling (Penny) from Taiwan, who is currently studying the Academic Year Abroad English course at Embassy CES, won a $50 gift voucher for the most interesting story. To celebrate, a guest story teller, Joan Bailey, entertained the 70 or so students with her energetic story telling skills.

Penny's story tells of a visit to Paris during which she goes to the Picasso Museum and meets to an old man with paint covered hands who mysteriously vanishes not long after. Who was he?

You can read the whole story below.

An Encounter with Picasso

“Wake up! We are going to visit your favourite painter and “Gerard Mulot”, the famous sweet shop.” Cindy woke me up. “And I have borrowed a student ID card for you so you can enter for free like me.” She said with a grin. After visiting the Louvre, climbing the Eiffel Tower, Shopping at the Le Bon Marche and hitting the Champs-Elysees, my destination on my fifth day in Paris was the Picasso Museum. “Are you sure? Your classmate doesn’t look like me.” I asked with worry. “No problem! Western people can’t differentiate between you and her.” Cindy said confidently.

“Enjoy your visit.” The doorman said. I entered the Picasso Museum for free successfully. I did not notice that Cindy was stopped by the doorman because he thought she was too old to be a student, so I kept walking in with the crowd. “Do you know why Dora Maar’s right eye is a red colour?” I said. There was an elderly man standing behind me. “Sorry! I thought you were my friend.” I said to him. “That’s all right!” He said with a kind smile. “Have you seen an Asian girl with short hair as tall as me?” I asked. “No, she probably got lost. You should stay here and wait for a while, she will definitely pass here.” He suggested.

The old man took two cups of coffee from a small room at the corner. “I think you like your coffee sweet? This one is for you.” He said and passed me a coffee. “Thank you! Yes, I love everything sweet.” I said and took the coffee from his hand and I noticed his hands covered with paint. “Are you a painter?” I asked. “Yes, I am but I don’t use brushes now” He said. “Would you like to tell me why Dora Maar’s right eye is red?” “Because she was Picasso’s lover number 2 and she had to struggle with two other women so she was crying every day.” I told him my joke. “No! She was a tough woman and I really loved her.” He said seriously.

Cindy walked towards me and said, “Thank God you’re safe!” “I was waiting for you and I have just been talking to this man.” I said. “Who were you talking to?” Cindy asked. “He is…” I said and turned around but he was not here and I walked towards the corner. But there was nothing, there was no door or room. I touched the whole wall as long as I could reach to look for any handle. “What are you doing? Are you a nut?” Cindy said impatiently. “Trust me! I have just had a cup of coffee with him.” I said but the cup now was not in my hand, it disappeared. “Don’t be silly! Quick! Natural is calling me. Let’s look for a toilet.” Cindy said. We left there but I could still smell a slight coffee smell from my hand.

“Where have you been?” I said in a loud voice and stood in front of the wash basins. “I was stopped by the stupid doorman.” Cindy shouted from a stall in the toilet. I looked at my reflection in a mirror and said, “Cindy, somehow, I felt something familiar about the old man. He looked like Pica…” Something in the mirror stopped me. I stared at the reflection of my face it separated into many geometrical shapes and one of my eyes looked like a Macaroon. “Do you like my painting of you, sweet girl?” A husky voice said. “No...” I screamed.
 

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