An Excerpt:

First- the set up...

In the excerpt you are about to hear our protagonist, Nelson Hanlin, a soft spoken fellow, still healing from the wounds of his wife’s death a little over a year before, has cut off most contact to the outside world spending his time passionately devoted to his oil painting. His latest painting is quite large, seven feet wide and four and a half feet tall, it was one of the largest paintings he had ever been commissioned to create. On the day you are about to embark on in your reading, Nelson had begun painting during the morning hours, right when the light shines through the south facing windows so softly. On that same morning we are about to share together, while he became so passionately involved with the melding and mixing and texturing in the creating of his painting somehow he thought he had slipped into the painting; quite literally in fact- from the waist up! He had looked around in a terrified state seeing behind and in front of him a different world; the world that his painting seemed merely to be a window to. Terrified as he was he pulled himself back out as quickly as he had gone in.

After stumbling back and fainting whilst bending down to sit on a love seat behind him, he was woken by a knock at the door- his mailman, Jake. Confused at the earlier happenings as he goes to answer the door he ponders, as he does he becomes determined to show Jake what has happened, mostly wanting to confirm his hope, that he is not gone completely mad! Anyhow, he welcomes his pal inside, not telling him about the happenings for fear that the painting won’t allow him access surely making Nelson look as crazy as he...

Let us turn to the story:

Impressed by the sheer size of the canvas and the expanse of scenery before him, Jake, stepped back into the opposite corner of the room to get a proper grasp of the magnitude of the panoramic sight set before him, angled as it stood. Nelson watched Jake's reaction and the immensity of the painting became more obvious to him. "Funny what another's perspective will do for your own understanding", he thought. Nelson stood by the right side of the painting, wondering if it would grant him access to its world beyond. No matter how his friend reacted, he had to show Jake what he had learned, he had to tell someone. Jake was a more quiet person, not the type who would ruin your secrecy for his own benefit. Not that they had discussed the topic, it was just an intuition Nelson felt that comforted him.

Nelson pressed in closer, putting his hand up to determine the openness of the painting. As his warm fingers pressed the still wet paint of the green field toward the bottom right hand side of the painting, he pushed harder, fingers squishing through the now thick paint, stopping at the canvas. When the tips of his fingers found the fabric wall before them, realizing they would go no further, they pressed harder... the whole painting shifted a bit, he had not realized the strength of his determination.

“Woah, man!” Jake said alarmed. With haste he lunged forward, running to the canvas grabbing the left side by its top and bottom, catching it before it toppled to the floor. Hoisting the canvas back in place and securing it in the crossbars of the easel as Nelson had not done, Jake pressed “Whudda you thinkin, man? Everything ok?” Nelson with a dazed look on his face only stared at his index and middle finger of his right hand. They stared back up at his eyes as he touched them both with his thumb... not understanding why the painting would not let him in. Jake, not understanding the seeming absurdity, placed a hand on Nelson's back once again, “Where you at, buddy?” knowing it was not where he stood.

Nelson slowly looked at Jake. “Nothing, it’s.. nothing.” he shook his head and proceeded to step back and grasp with his eyes the whole painting at once. As he did, Jake stood close as he was and peered into the great detail achieved by Nelson’s masterful hands.

“...this is a mural Nels, but there is something so... strange about it, you know?” He stretched out the word 'strange' as he spoke it, perhaps summing up all the adjectives in his mind together, arriving at 'strange' as his conclusion.

“How’s that?” Nelson replied

“Well, as I’m standing here looking in...” he paused and continued to stare into the painting for some time... a sense of wonderment seemed to fill him, a bit of the magic which Nelson remembered feeling that morning. A minute later he finished his sentence “...it just seems so... I don’t quite know what to call it, but I can’t stop gazing at it, there is just so much... so much to... see!” he shook his head slowly from side to side not understanding what it was he gazed into... but knowing it was magnificent, "yes that’s right" he thought, "completely magnificent"! He could not remember using that word before, the world he knew usually would not warrant such high praise.

At Jake’s reaction, Nelson watched. He began to realize that what had happened to him was not just in his mind, that he had indeed gone into the painting, he knew it now.  With the sense of wonderment that flowed across his friends being, he now understood that there was something magical here indeed, he did not know what had happened, he did not understand what could have caused this miracle in his humble painting studio, but there before him stood his friend, peering into the world of the canvas before him with such a wonderment that he knew nothing less was possible for this piece of work.

Wanting inside now more than ever to show Jake what had happened, Nelson thought through all that had happened to figure out how he had opened the painting or why possibly the painting had simply welcomed him in. Was there a trigger of some sort? A password he had audibly stated which he had been unaware of before; a cough, a sigh? His mind raced. Soon he came to a possible answer. He remembered his brush entering first, piercing the painting with its soft bristles full of thick life. Deeply he contemplated the moment that he was inside, inside the painting, brush still held out before him, frozen still. As his thoughts drifted to that place he swiftly picked up his palette, and snatched up his small brush like a giant grabbing at a twig. Hastily he began painting a stark white accent on a cloud before him, unaware of his friend standing next to him; now entranced by his goal. Steadily he swept back and forth with the tip of that seemingly insignificant tool trying to find a keyhole of sorts, a way inside.

Jake watched in amazement as Nelson masterfully brought to life the paint on the tip of his brush, sweeping it into the clouds on the great canvas. He’d seen nothing like it, this mad man swinging his bristled sward in the great battle he now seemed to be waging with the ominous beast before him, Nelson’s own creation. Minutes whipped by as he incessantly swayed on the balls of his feet and effortlessly switched and cleaned brushes in what seemed like single movements to Jake's curious and astonished eyes.

Nelson, increasingly more perplexed and infuriated at the painting pushed harder at the canvas, trying to show his friend what had happened... why he was not mad in his mind. "I must show him" he thought over and over, a mantra which kept his minds focus steady on its goal. He continued on, pulling, pushing as the pace and depth of his breath increased at a pace commensurate with his franticity... Finally it happened! The tip of his now maddened brush pierced into the canvas, he delighted in his madness. But unlike that morning, and much to his surprise, it actually ripped through the canvas tearing out the other side of the painting... indeed tearing out the other side of his soul.

Alarmed by the happening and ultimately stunned, Jake burst out “Nels! What are you doing?” He stepped to the side of the painting, only to see the other end of the white tipped brush hanging out the pierced masterpiece, bristles now bent, matted and mixed with he other layers of light blue paint which had been on the other side of the cloud. He looked back at his defeated, deflated friend, who had lost his battle with the great work which sat before him, pierced but still champion of their match. He moved back to the love seat and sat down, brush still stuck in the canvas, not replying to Jake’s plea. “What’s going on man?" he questioned. He continued on "You gotta get out! I mean, what you're working on here is incredible, but you gotta get onto other things!" He leaned against the table  crossing his arms across his chest and placing one foot over the other "we gotta get you around other people” he said those last words with reluctance knowing that it wouldn’t happen, not anytime soon, anyhow.

The blank look on Nelson's face gave Jake his answer. There was nothing he was going to do right now for Nelson that would have any sort of impact; he'd have to figure something else out. "but… what? What would pull him from this insane behavior?" he thought. "Surely he can't be making sense, could he?" he looked back at the pigmented victor with all its vexing complexity and depth feeling smaller and smaller before it’s great magnificence.