Dear Diary,

I feel a little silly writing this.

In their mid-twenties most women don't start a diary anymore, I guess, and if they do then at most in the form of a VLog or something similar. But I found this wonderful red leather wrapped journal at the flea market along with the painting I want to restore.

So why not document my work on the painting here with this journal? There is something nostalgic about writing again with a fountain pen on paper that is slightly yellowed from time. In fact, I even enjoy the way the fine metal nib scratches across the rough surface.

As much as I'm happy about the diary, the picture leaning against my bedroom wall has made my heart leap.

An old woman, so nondescript that she threatened to disappear among all the noisy dealers and colorful autumn leaves, sold it to me. It was the only piece she had brought with her. Surprising really, but who knows, maybe she didn't have any more of value. I felt infinitely sorry for her. That's probably why I paid her twice what she asked. Her delicate fingers trembled as she handed me the painting.

I probably would have paid even more for it. I can't even tell exactly what it is, but I was magically drawn to the painting, even though there isn't much of the actual luster left.

You can still roughly make out the portrait of a handsome young man with a tormented look, probably from the 18th century, but the canvas is badly damaged. It hangs down in tatters, as if a bear had repeatedly sharpened its claws on it. Strange really, who destroys a painting so badly and yet keeps it? It looks like he was a young nobleman and if I am correct, the painting was not done by an amateur painter. However, I could not find a signature.

Perhaps it was the painting of a lover who drove a husband to frenzy? Or the cuckolded noblewoman had vented her rage on it? But then why hadn't they disposed of it or restored it? The more I look at this portrait, the more questions I have. It is like a riddle that wants to be cracked by me.

I will spend tomorrow exploring the history of the painting. Who was he? What happened to him? Why did someone cut into the canvas? Accidentally or on purpose? Maybe I can track down a picture of what the painting looked like before it was damaged. That would help insanely with the restoration.

Maybe the gallery around the corner can help me? Possibly he was a well-known resident duke or something. First, though, I should call my apartment rental company. Since I got home, it's been almost colder in the apartment than outside.

Probably the windows are leaking.

My fingers are getting numb from the cold.

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)