Down These Stairs - Michael Wouters

Dit schilderij inspireerde mij enorm. Het huis lijkt nog niet te zijn ingericht, er hangt niks aan de wanden, alsof het schilderij niet helemaal is voltooid. Hoe mooi het licht ook naar binnen valt, er straalt geen vreugde van het canvas... iets ontbreekt.

ik stelde mij hierbij voor dat de schilder zijn geliefde wilde schilderen, die in haar favoriete jurk naar beneden komt. Maar zijn muze laat hem in de steek, ze verbergt zich in de hoeken van zijn geheugen en het lukt hem niet haar beeltenis weer te geven in een kleur. Zelfs de deur laat hij openstaan om haar beeld de kans te geven het schilderij te betreden. Zowel de schilder als zijn zelfportret wachten met neergebogen hoofd, droevig maar geduldig, totdat ze ooit de trap af zal dalen.

[De akkoordprogressie benadrukt een constante afdalende beweging]

This painting inspired me immensely. The house doesn’t seem to be decorated yet, no pictures mounted on the walls, as if the painting isn’t quite finished. No matter how beautiful the light enters the room, the canvas doesn’t radiate joy, something is missing.

I imagine that the artist tried to portray his loved one, coming down the stairs in her favorite dress. But his muse is failing him, she is hiding in the corners of his mind and he’s not able to capture her image in a hue. The door left open, enabling her image to enter the canvas. Both the painter as well as his self portrait are waiting, bowed head, sad but patient, for her to someday descent these stairs.

[The chord progression emphasizes a constant downward motion]

I've been waiting for your colors to arrive.
As the walls erect this house will come alive.
I have opened up the door, to let you in,
But I'm not exactly sure where to begin.
I've been longing for a sign ever so trife,
to be inspired by your picture in my mind.
And capture your existence in a hue.
My softest reveries all coming true...
That you'll be walking down these stairs,
in that dress you love to wear.
Your smile will light my heart,
that was tainted from the start.
You'll be coming down these stairs,
in that dress you love to wear.
And there's nothing I can do,
but patiently waiting,
for your image in this painting,
to fill the room.

I've been dying for your fingers to touch mine.
But you're hiding in a corner of my mind.
Whenever I get close you disappear.
Your shadow fades, your pastels in a smear.
The smudges in the corner are unclear,
was it joy or sorrow causing me these tears?
Attempt to sculpt your beauty in a hue,
my softest reveries all coming true...
When you'll be walking down these stairs,
in that dress you love to wear.
Your smile will light my heart,
that was painted from the start.
You'll be coming down these stairs,
in that dress I love to see you wear.
But all that's left of you,
is the smell of your perfume.
I'm trying so hard not to cry.
Patiently waiting,
for the colors of this painting...

to dry.