B.I. Mona Lisa

“Mona, you keep moving. You will need to hold very still.”

“How still, Mr. Leo?”

“Still like my stargazing eyes, or my steady hand. Watch, as it intrinsically strokes and caresses the page with all these magnificent symmetrical shapes and color. Marvelous! How about it, Mona?”

“Yes. Your work is marvelous Mr. Leo. That’s why my husband and I chose you.”

“Yes. Yes. Of course. Thank you. Might I add why my paintings are so marvelous?”

“Please.”

“Good, because there is only one secret.”

“What’s that Mr. Leo?”

It is, “Nothing great can be rushed, but some of the greatest things are managed to be done promptly.” The rushed things, I take credit for, but the prompt things are God. See how God moves my paintbrush so spectacularly and with precision?”

“Yes, I do. May I ask you to spill what you are hiding?”

“Of course, Mona. Forgive me, but you want to make him proud, don’t you?”

“Who, Mr. Leo? God?”

“Ha! Funny Mona. God is already pleased. Francesco.

“Oh. Hahahaha. Of course, I do.”

“Well then hold still. And keep that smile. My job becomes easier when my client’s get into character.”

“How can I possibly get into character when I’m holding still?”

“Because this character has no life but is alive. It’s going to be casted on many stages but will not move. Understood?”

“Yes, very much so. I’m alive. I am Lisa del Giocondo, wife of Francesco del Giocondo…..! But I am still?”

“Yes, yes, yes, but you will make the painting appear alive, and glorious. Most of all, you will be responsible for moving the hearts of many.”

“Me? I must agree your paintings seem to capture a glimpse of authentic truth from the living, but I’m different from all the rest. I’m not much to paint. Really… ”

“Yes, you are different, but much is the same. The beauty in them all has made me very famous. And you….. You will do the same. You will light up this world for centuries with that simple, angelic smile and dashing glow. You are a masterpiece all by itself Mona Lisa. You’ll see. Francesco will too. Now hold still.”

(Fixing her posture, and slightly adjusting her head to how Leo first positioned it, Lisa gives another modest smile, careful not to show her gums. “I can’t imagine how awful that image would be,” Lisa laughs inside her head, remembering to suspend her cheeks. Without warning Leo lifts his paintbrush, dabs it in color and starts to stroke the page in fast paces and circular motions. Lisa could see the promptness of Leo’s brush, and the lack of rush mentioned earlier. Although it was fascinating to see the famous Leo painting, Lisa’s thoughts scrambled again.)

Hold still Mona Lisa. Be a good wife Lisa. Your husband loves you, Lisa. While these things are true, I can’t help but think of my feelings. I love him very much too. I was very happy the day he asked my father to marry me. It was a wonderful way to honor such a fine man like Francesco, and my late aunt by marriage, Camilla. Camilla. Ah! What a shame, dying so young. Francesco loved Camilla. I did too. I know she would be happy for us. To know her son had a mother, and her husband a wife, could put a soul at ease. Bless her soul, Holy Father. Bless her son’s soul, and my Pierra too. I hope they’re all up there in heaven singing, dancing, laughing….. painting……..Ha. It’s not much down here. Life on earth is such a hypocrisy. A mona gives you life, and then you die, go to heaven and live. Then at best, the rest of us sit here and mourn, thinking of when our turn will be next. Death has a way of creeping up on you. Everything’s going fine, and then someone dies of fever, murder, age, because the crow cawed, or whatever else. If you’re lucky you may be afforded such privileges. ”The fortune” helps you to deal with it but doesn’t ease the pain.

My family and I are fortunate because of Francesco. So far, our 8 years of marriage have been great. Nothing has changed much. He makes all the money a wife could ask for. He lavishes the children and I with wonderfully handmade silks and linens. There’s plenty of food to go around. Lastly, his influence over other Florence civilians is astonishing. Everyone’s always complimenting me on his nobleness, sincerity, honesty, and humility. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.

But as I sit here, I can’t help but wonder why? I mean, I know Francesco is gifting our newborn son this portrait, but what significance is this? Can my beauty preserve Andrea’s life? Will he ever know how much he is loved? Will he ever know how still I kept just so his Padre could be happy? Will he ever get a chance to see this portrait? I can’t bear the thought of losing another child. I can’t bear losing myself again.

(Leo switches his paintbrush and chooses a different color.)

Wow…. Mr. Leo is just amazing. This portrait is starting to look more and more like….like…..like me? How did he do it? I've never been one to have absolute straight hair, and Mr. Leo has precisely sought that out and interpreted my curls there. Thinning had started after losing Camilla’s son and continued when I lost my daughter. Still, he managed to put the exact amount of hair on my head. It’s as if he counted the strands. The color has always been a bit of a bright brunette. My God. You can see the different pigments and hues dash on this portrait! My features have always been hard for me to make out. Mercury just doesn’t shine the reflection in the way that’s needed. I guess my nose is more elongated and slenderer than I thought. My lips appear to be small, moderately perky, but nice. My eyes look a little exhausted, but kind. It’s me. I love it. I love it.

“I LOVE IT!!”

“Hello again Mona!! Have we forgotten to be still again?”

“I just can’t help it! It’s glorious!”

“Thank you, Mona, but I’m not finished entirely yet. Keep your pose. I told you how luxurious this portrait would be. Any oppositions to that?”

“No Mr.!”

“No Mr.!?”

“I mean….. No Mr. Leo!”

“That’s right! I am Leonardo da Vinci! Son of Ser and Caterina Piero! Artist of Vinci, Italy! Painter of the Last Supper, Vitruvian Man, Self Portrait, The Virgin of the Rocks, and many more! And nothing but God touches my paintbrush! You are?”

“I am Lisa del Giocondo, wife of Francesco del Giocondo! Mother of Piero, Camilla, Marietta, and Andrea. Vilomah of Bartolomeo and Piera!”

“Yes, yes you are. And you know what else?”

“No. What?”

“You are this.”

(Leo opens both hands out to the portrait.)

“So, what do you call this?”

“I call it simply Mona Lisa.”

Disclaimer: The title B.I. (stands for Beautiful Intelligence's) is interchangeably used along with the word by in this short story. It's dual meaning also is saying Mona is sharing her story behind the scenes of the painting through the author's interpretation. Mona means madam. Vilomah are what you call mothers who have lost children.