The workday is over, and I’m looking at a picture of Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring on my laptop. In that frozen moment, is the girl inhaling or exhaling? That is the big question, the one I keep asking. If she’s breathing in, then someone could be closing in on her, coming for her. If she’s breathing out, i.e., sighing, then someone could be moving away from her, leaving her behind, and she has turned to have one last look at him. There’s melancholy in her eyes. The person she’s looking at is likely a man she has feelings for… but not necessarily romantic or sexual. The man could be her lover, but also her father, brother, or close friend. Inferring from where the light is coming from, her past seems to have been bright. Her future, however, seems dark or yet undefined.

I imagine her removing the turban she’s wearing, allowing her hair to fall on her shoulders. She’s blonde, and her hair is long and soft like satin. The rays of the sun and her hair are sisters. I make her wear the turban again, so that the painting isn’t ruined. But then I take off the pearl earring from her ear to inspect it, and I find that it isn’t a pearl earring at all. It’s an incredibly light, shiny, silver sphere, but I don’t know what it’s made of. I give the earring back to her, and she puts it on again so that the painting isn’t ruined.

I take a step back, and I look at the picture of the painting again. The girl with the pearl earring is captivated by something… probably by the painter himself.