Sample

Act I

(Scene 1)

Vincent’s studio

The large studio is sparsely furnished with a cream coloured chaise longue, up centre.
Easel stands five feet away and opposite.
Along the right wall is an upright computer that sits on a small wooden desk, next to a drinks trolley that contains various bottles of alcohol.    
A neatly made single bed and clothes rail are situated along the back wall.
A two seater red leather sofa, up left.
A sink unit under a round window, set in the back wall, next to the bathroom door.
Entrance door, to left wall.
Paintings lay conspicuously scattered, and a dim fluorescent light hangs central.

Early Tuesday evening

GRACE is posing for VINCENT, only in red satin French knickers, whilst lying on the chaise longue.
Her head is positioned upright, as she lies oblique with her left leg crossing over the other, and her left arm held aloft at head height, as if she is holding a gun to her head.
Her long brown hair is loosely tied up.
She is outrageous in character, and speaks with a slight Mancunian accent.
VINCENT who speaks with an Anglo-French poetic accent stands opposite.
He is athletic and amicable, flamboyant but calm.
He is wearing a light blue chequered shirt and black jeans.
When painting, he always keeps one brush behind his ear.
The dim fluorescent light is flickering intermittently.

   Silence as VINCENT carefully paints for a few moments.

Vincent (sighs)
Sup-er!

VINCENT smiles as he approaches GRACE, with hands on hips.

Does one want to know something Grace?

Grace (giggles childishly)
Yes, tell me Vincent, In your funny way, do.

Vincent (gesticulates)
You sprung from the testicles of Uranus;
Or fell from the sky with Eros in tow;
And melted the hearts of the watchers there;
And I was one of those observant fools;
You see, it is only the artist’s among us;
Who breathe the air with a bosom in mind;
And there you lie, like an angel with wings.

   GRACE cackles.
   VINCENT puts one hand on his heart, the other in mid air.

Have thou a body! Oh beautiful Goddess!!

   GRACE cackles.

Grace
Oh, you’re madly insane, you are Vincent!

   VINCENT chuckles as he returns to the easel.

Vincent  (holds his forehead)
Er, Grace, I think we'll stop now. I just can’t continue with this fucking light. All this flickering on and off, on and off. I am sure I am seeing double, and with this huge headache. My visions impaired…sore eyes. I am so sorry, but I really must stop now.

Grace (shifts)
Do you want me to go then,Vincent?

Vincent (places his brush down on the palette)
No, stay, no stay, whilst I do recover.

Grace
Shall I get my things and prepare to leave, as you've no use for the sitter now?

Vincent
No, no, no, please take your time. I need some rest that is all. If you rush away now my inspiration will be lost, and what use then of the sensuality of your heavenly body Grace?

   GRACE rises from the chaise longue.

Grace (sighs)
Oh Vincent… but you knew I was coming. You should truly have fixed that light by now. What are you like, you silly bugger?

Vincent
I know, I know. I am so sorry. I’m two steps behind the universe, and one behind myself.

   He beckons her to the painting.

Do you want to come and have a quick look? Of course you do; hitherto… make haste!

Grace (excitedly)
Aw… yeah, alright, can I? You’re turning me on Vincent. It’s the way that you speak to me. I feel all warm inside, like never before. I feel so beautiful; so womanly.

GRACE puts on her red gown that is lying on the floor next to her as she crosses the studio.

Vincent (impatiently)
Yes, come quickly, come quickly my dear. I best tell you I am practising though. It is not my intention to make you feel too loved. Under this light, I think i am losing control of all my words, and my thespian side protrudes through a darker wall of silence.

   GRACE giggles as she makes her way to the easel.

Oh Grace! A perfect definition you are; the deluxe model of nature. You are much, much more than just a sitter for the immense Vincent! Even Picasso would have been envious of the muse lying there on the chaise longue.

   She stands next to VINCENT and observes the painting.

Grace (perplexed)
But where am I Vincent?

   VINCENT gently moves her backwards.

Vincent
You are too close. Stand back a little, you will see yourself more clearly.

Grace
But why are my eyes so wide apart? And my noses are not that shape, at all.

Vincent
Grace! This is the style in which I have chosen to paint you.

Grace (dejectedly)
Really? Oh.

Vincent
Yes. It is Cubism, which if you had any knowledge, you would know for sure that this style of painting…twas Picasso’s trade mark.

Grace
But my hair is two colours, yellow and green; and I have two faces?

Vincent (chuckles)
Oh Grace! You are so unearthed. You really should get out more.

Grace
So, is this how you really see me then Vincent?

Vincent
Grace, I see you in many, many different lights; this is just one of those lights I am exploring. I am reinventing the past, lets say.

Grace (turns sardonically)
Oh, if only my Humphrey could see me this way, he would feast in fervour, I am sure of it.

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