He looks different in real life. The skin’s a little lighter and he’s not as big, but I the future’s not interested in details, just facts. For example he is standing on the edge of the roof with feet wide apart; he is wearing a bizarre red coat and the sword he appears to be holding is in fact floating just behind his hand – that’s the stuff that matters. An artist knows what symbols his work conveys and so I know what he is trying to tell me. The feet wide apart, edge of the rooftop stance shows his belief that he is a fearsome warrior. The coat is a taunt, you could follow it anywhere, but he does not fear the Police or the army or any of their metallic weapons so he is content for them to know where he is and tremble. The sword is to give a fool’s hope, that maybe he is just a man with a blade, and you don’t see the power holding his weapon until it’s too late.
Like I say, it’s all in the details. You’ve got to really study a picture to know what it’s about. You see the glint of the sun off a billboard, the angle of a crane, the position of birds in the sky. You have to take it all in to understand what the painting tells you. I see it all now, in more beautiful colour than I could ever paint, in motion that my easel could never capture. I see it all, and know to duck just in time.
My study rewards me, the blade flies over my head but, as I knew it would, flies round and returns to its owner. Twice more the blade flies out, but I’ve already seen how and where it’s going to come. It’s very tempting to just watch, to see my work flow out in real motion, but if I stood and got my head cut off then it wouldn’t be what I’d painted would it?
The painting said I’m unarmed and so I am, standing here trying to face down a monster with nothing but my fists. Thing is, I figured out quite quickly that he has control over metal, can make it do what he wants. Just as I think it he rips up a metal railing with a gesture as if to prove me right. This time I run, alarmed at the speed with which he can move such a heavy object. It crashes down just behind me, but I’ve gotten close enough to land the punch I knew I would. It’s even more satisfying than I thought it would be, knocking him to the floor with blood spattering from his mouth.
It leaves me distracted long enough for the next picture to be fulfilled. Paintings only convey things through sight, they don’t prepare you (to take an example) for the pain of a sword penetrating your body. I knew I couldn’t escape it, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t hurt this much. Well I guess this is what they call facing your destiny. I fall back, making those horrible gurgling sounds you hear in films. But I know this happened for a reason, people will know of my gift and it will save them.
A red coat is easy to follow, especially when you can see the future. I’ve painted it, the whole chase, where he tries to hide, the way he tries to fight back, and the plastic cased chemical weapons they use to bring him down. I donated my paintings to the police yesterday so they will know what to do. I can’t hold my head up any longer, but I can see the helicopter catching the sunlight, just like the picture.
Minor Note: The Voyage of the Damned aliens will be discussed when series four starts as there weren't many species in the special, however the articles will resume when Torchwood starts in January
No comments:
Post a Comment