A love story so bold it became a song. The song played while the paintings were made. I saw you, I touched you, and then… our son was born. The love lives and grows everyday.

The story starts in a lush valley in a small town somewhere in the south of France. An ancient quarry used to supply the marble to build monuments in old Rome. Bright orange veins run through each wall up-and-down, to build something beautiful and amazing and timeless. Overlooking a bubbling brook sits a retired mill converted into a large studio with apartments overhead. Off in the distance is a brook bubbling telling your mind to let go and be free. The journey begins up and down that waterway funneling in small canals, under two Roman bridges. Time is different here.

six - eight

Over time you start showing signs and become irritable and kind of big. You are still beautiful and we wait in anticipation to find out if we’re having a boy or a girl. We nickname the little creature Wiggles Wilson and the name sticks with everyone we know. You become volumes of womanhood growing bigger to accommodate the little rascal inside. You are the purity of feminine form, what your body was meant for, unlike me. We take photos as time goes by and you show more baby everyday.

Mark Andrew Wilson © 1997 - 2019 All rights reserved.
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