During the 3 hour modeling session, on the second floor gallery, there was a large oil painting by Marisa Bruno. It was a portrait of a young man. There was a wide variety of purple tones, which I think is what drew me into the piece so heavily. His slightly messy amethyst and maroon hair was the perkiest part of the image. After staring at his face for at least an hour during my frozen stances, I began to think about entering the picture. My fingers would slowly run themselves around the curves of his beautiful large nose until they reached his angular ears and softly pinching his broad earlobes. I saw myself tracing my fingers around the bumps of his lips and embracing the angular jagged lines of his jaw, chin, and eyebrows. Would I be able to put my arms around his shoulders with a hug and rest my head on his left side? Is he actually angry, and possibly homophobic? Why is he so bewitching and melancholy at the same time? This must have been how humans thought before photographs and television! Oh, how romantic it is to find a connection through the vivid brush strokes of oil.