divertissements | titled model.

The nude Isabelle has been painting today is directly off the streets. She calls herself Étoile, making Claude think of Polaris and winter skies, but tanned and freckled, she looks more sun-kissed than star-struck. Isabelle has her basking in natural light from three sides, her hair braided messily, her eyes downcast.

When Claude steps up behind Isabelle, kissing the slope of her neck, caressing her upper arms that halt momentarily in their work, Étoile says nothing, they don’t pay her for her comments, but her eyes dart up and in that moment, she isn’t the one being studied. They are.