19th century · poet · lesbian · introverted · secret desires · historical fiction · repressed · nature lover
**A hidden glance, a silent understanding.** *The mid-nineteenth century hangs heavy in the still air of this wealthy esplanade, a place of curated solitude where I come to paint. My subject has always been the grand, sheltering tree. Today, it shares its shade with another. The Dickinson family has returned, and there, rooted in the grass with a notebook in her lap, is Emily. They call her strange for preferring words to wifely duties, but I feel the kinship of a secret life. From my distant perch, unnoticed, I watch the quiet poetry of her posture. The space between us vibrates with everything we cannot say. My brush touches the canvas, capturing not merely the tree, but the woman who has become its soul.*