Capolavoro

Suggested Audio Candy:

[1] Goblin “Suspiria”

[2] Goblin “Profondo Rosso”

There is no sight quite as beautiful to behold as blood on a pure white canvas. The contrast is one which has fascinated me since I was a small boy. The contract of a colorless backdrop accentuated by vivid lashes of deep red is the sole reason why I always desired to be an artist. Now I am, although the quill is my paintbrush when expressing myself, and I paint with a mixture of broad and fine strokes as I adorn each canvas with primary color. Watching Italian cinema, particularly around the turn of the eighties when it was such a forceful and provocative medium, allowed me to witness true artistry in motion. Argento, Fulci, Bava; all three understood the splendor of spilt crimson. Whether it jettisoned unevenly from gaping exposed arteries, glugged slowly from tiny punctures in the flesh, or simply exploded in a thick-set geyser, it always was a thing of unparalleled beauty to me.

I stand before you now with a surgical scalpel as my chosen tool of artistry. It is precise, streamlined, able to slice through flesh effortlessly as though it were margarine. This is my weapon of choice and with it I plan to paint you a vista. It will be vibrant and expressive, moving of its own free will and open to interpretation come the end. My art comes from some place deep, this painting will therefore be a reflection of my soul, and will be fashioned through passion and an unflinching purpose to create something of mysterious dark allure. I shall provide you with an exclusive vantage from which to watch as I decorate my canvas. Remember the splash zone, things may be about to get particularly messy. It is all in the name of art of course.

In honor of Giallo; I plan to wear black leather gloves, and your perspective will be granted through my very eyes as I go about my work. It is my wish that you see what I see, marvel at the process, and watch as I translate pain into celestial pleasure. I couldn’t hope to achieve true results without a willing participant although willing may not be the operative word here. Chloroform had its say in the acquisition of said subject and the effects are just beginning to wear off. This is a critical time; it is of monumental importance that she be cognizant before we proceed. I am granting her death for a cause much more far-reaching than simple bloodletting. Today I aim to paint my masterpiece, my pièce de résistance, the best work I have ever produced. Hers is therefore a divine honor.

So where then do I start? Time is wasting and I feel that we have had sufficient build-up to the act in question. The primary incision is all important as I wish to make the very best first impression. That initial spray is paramount; it will provide the very first splash of deep red on my canvas and inform every action from thereon in. I wish to make a bold opening statement, thus broad brush strokes are preferable. Blood flows with ease when released freely and this would prove too erratic for the task at hand. It will need to be slow, deliberate, and as concentrated as it can possibly be. It simply has to be the feet; circulation’s outpost, the farthest obtainable point from the heart, and the place where blood negates to frequent.

Her feet are bare. This is, again, necessary in establishing my tone. The manner in which she has been restrained is ideal for unhampered movement and, in another nod to glorious Italian ingenuity, I have attached my quarry via movable harness. A true Giallo wizard would always deduce their next move well in advance of any implementation. My victim is therefore puppet on a string, a tube of red gloss which I can apply as liberally as I see fit. I believe that the time has come so please stand back if you wish or decide not to as the case may be. Music is vital here; audio accompaniment is never more expressive than when married with bold visual stimuli. It could only ever be Profondo Rosso by Goblin. It seems fitting don’t you think?

Okay, that went rather well, even if I do say so myself. The unrushed nature in which the blood congealed beneath the surface of her pelt was ideal and I believe we have our base coat. The time has come to get a little erratic. This is where a true artist makes their pronouncement. It is here that I will provide definition. Each strike of the blade will be applied at random and I will allow myself to become truly caught up in the moment and nothing else. It is a common misconception that fine brush strokes need be painted with a steady hand. Right now my palms are sweating and have no concept of where or how they will make and leave their mark. I am about to embrace the unknown and create of free will. No preconception or instruction, just license to operate without hindrance. This should be worth sticking around for.

Heavens; what a gusher. In my wildest imaginings I could have not expected that my victim would be so pent-up with sanguine fluids for the displacement. The entire canvas is adorned with her viscera and I am reasonably confident that now is the time for us to speak of my magnum opus. I am beyond proud of my handiwork and, alas, there is no more deep red to spill. She bled well, my mother always taught me not to torture a duckling so I ensured that her denouement be both swift and decisive. To the untrained eye the results may seem slapdash and incoherent but I implore you to look a little closer. Each rivulet tells its tale, every crosswords offers a plethora of different optical routes to travel and, like the finest art, it is open to interpretation. You may discern a method in my madness but yours will be different from the next person’s calculations. Make of it what you will; see it as chaos or refinement. It is ultimately your choice, your will. I see beauty, such divine heartbreaking beauty. Simplicity; but unequivocally complex and sprawling. The paint has dried now. The dance is over. Therefore all that is left to do is to stand back, intake a breath, exhale, and marvel at my masterpiece. My capolavoro.