The Visual Challenge: The Threshold

Dawn Dillingham

June 3, 2004

The lukewarm cup of tea grew steadily colder as Julia stared at Barnabas' newest acquisition.  For some odd reason, this particular painting left her unsettled and the late afternoon sunlight did nothing to brighten her ominous mood toward the piece.  Obviously, the dark, looming figures to the left had some bearing on that response, yet, there was nothing menacing about the figure of the cherubic, golden-haired child or the wistful, attractive women.  What exactly did Barnabas see in this particular painting?  Was it a statement of dark versus light, good versus evil, and who or what did each of the characters represent?  She sighed as she set the now tepid brew aside.

Well, the picture certainly fit the aura of the house and the estate.  Julia thought Barnabas might simply be attracted to the Victorian feel of the painting.  The pleasant, human figures were all typically attired for the era.  He always seemed drawn to the vintage works.  It was a leftover of his unfinished past, she reasoned.  Still, the darkness…the looming sense of evil…left her more than a little uncomfortable and she could not imagine that HE would want a continual reminder of the horrors of the past hanging around the house.

All manner of thoughts crept through Julia's mind as she tried to analyze what each character might represent to Barnabas.  Her initial response to the couple in the foreground was that they represented Barnabas and Josette.  The intense male figure could certainly pass for a representation of Barnabas, although the woman did not bear a strong resemblance to the young woman of his past and neither individual struck her as being young.  Perhaps this was his image of the love he had hoped to find and the young woman at the top was Josette…his elusive ideal.  She shrugged in confusion.  The darker figures were not difficult to assume.  The skeletal image of a grim reaper and the darkly veiled faces of past victims seemed an obvious conclusion for the left side of the scene.  It seemed that the sinister was never far away at Collinwood, even on canvas.  The brighter image of the child…was that a loose representation of Sarah, or of the children he would never see born, or an age of innocence long gone? 

Julia was so far into her own thoughts that she did not hear Barnabas enter the room.  He silently watched her as she studied the painting with a deeply furrowed brow.

"Do you not like the painting, Julia?"  He moved further into the room, stared down at the picture, and then back to Julia.  "It seems to trouble you."

Julia offered only a gentle shake of her head as she looked up at him.  "I must admit Barnabas that I find this piece…unsettling.  Quite frankly, I don't understand what you see in it."

He seemed surprised.  "Don't you?  I find that rather incredible."  He turned back to the frame and then to Julia, with the obvious puzzlement on his face.  "I suppose I simply assumed you would be as attune to the painting as I."

Julia's frustration grew.  "Well, art is quite subjective.  Perhaps if you told me what you see, I could understand.  It may give me a different perspective."

Barnabas contemplated the picture before him for only a few seconds before he began to speak.  "When I look at this, I see a partially opened doorway.  On this side, there is warmth, brightness, and beauty.  The oranges speak of the light of day, which was lost to me for so long.  See how the light is projected behind the roses, as if the sun is rising behind them?  I am on this side now, in the sunlight.  There, in the roses in full bloom I see a fully blossoming life. And through the doorway, the past is receding far into the darkness.  The evils as well as the good of a bygone life have been put away where they belong, in the past.  Only the good memories shine slightly brighter."

"And the couple?"  Julia was almost afraid to hear his answer.  So often, when he seemed to be turning his affection in her direction, as he had of late, there had been someone, some virginal ingenue who drew him away.  As hopeful as his perception sounded, she remained skeptical.

Barnabas smiled warmly.  "Ah, I see the moment the door was opened.  Look at the man very closely, Julia. That could easily be me.  He is so torn.  He wants what the woman has to offer, but he's hesitant.  He can't bring himself to reach out and take.  He is fighting with himself.  And the woman… see how she is holding so tightly to his arm, her eyes closed as if she were holding her breath?  She is hopeful that he will cross the invisible barrier between them and accept what she has to offer." 

Barnabas turned, advanced toward Julia's chair and drew her to her feet.  They stood, intent now only upon each other, the picture no longer their focus.  "We both know that woman is you, Julia.  That picture shows, quite vividly, the moment I chose to kiss you for the first time.  As conflicted as I had been I finally accepted the love I had denied existed.  In that moment, I crossed that threshold into this happy life that is now mine."

Together, they shared one last look at the newest addition to the Old House art collection.  Julia could no longer visualize the darker images quite so easily and did not feel the sense of foreboding she'd known earlier.  All she could see and feel were Barnabas' arms drawing her closer, drawing her attentions to him, understanding the certainty of his love as they stood in mirror image of the painting.  But, in real life, Barnabas smiled and no longer hesitated to accept what Julia so clearly offered.