Sally Manger
December 27, 2013 1:09 AM
Some not-so alone time in room four by Sally Manger
The blank canvas mocked her. Sally twirled her paintbrush idly between the fingers of her dominant hand, the other clutching a pallet featuring a rainbow of assorted paints. She had the world in her mind’s eye, but her hands were dumb and knew nothing of the world. Evidently, all she knew how to do was turn pages in books, her eyes soaking up the written words. She only absorbed, never created.But she wanted to create. Occasionally the Aladren wondered if her intelligence blinded her the way her logic had and sometimes still did, but that could not be. Her mother was extremely intelligent, but her artwork was inspiring and even lucrative. Sally wanted to be like her mother, wanted to create something instead of simply analyzing other people’s works. She had spent so long in the comfort of commentary; it was time to step into the insecurities of invention.
Here we go, the brunette thought. She righted her brush and dipped the bristles in the purple paint. Slowed by caution, she illustrated a circle toward the top right corner. There. A purple sun. Abstract. Sally paused, examining her “sun”. It took no time at all to realize how stupid it was. Frustrated, she threw the brush at the canvas without looking, almost soothed by the sound of the contact, the assurance that she had hit her target.
Grey-brown eyes glanced back at the canvas and noted the splatter marks with moderate joy. At least it was better than the stupid purple sun. “Oh, why not?” she mused aloud before dipping her fingers in different colored paints. She flicked at the canvas and smiled as colorful dots speckled the paper. It was not her mother’s level of art—or even Arnold’s, for he had inherited their mother’s talent, unlike her—but it was something.
The overwhelming feeling of someone else’s presence struck her, and she spun around to find that she was correct. “Oh, hello,” she offered, going to wave but recalling the mess on her hand and instead putting it behind her back. “Were you hoping to be alone? I can leave if you would prefer.” She was certainly no artist, whereas this person probably was. They, therefore, had more right to use the room, and their preferences were of a higher priority.
12
Sally Manger
Some not-so alone time in room four
198
Sally Manger
1
5
Ava Fletcher
December 27, 2013 2:25 PM
Sometimes the best ideas come when we're upset by Ava Fletcher
Ava had been wanting to try out her new paints and paper in the MARS room since she got back to Sonora. After the painting disaster in her room last semester, she had decided that she probably shouldn't paint there anymore. She collected her things in the brand new box and case Papa had given her and donned her favorite paint smock- an old shirt of her father's that Papa had dug up for her. She always felt closer to her father when wearing this shirt and some of that emotion had always crept into the paintings or drawings she created whilst in that shirt. Ava whistled (or at least tried to) and she skipped down to the art room. When she got there, however, she noticed that there was already someone there, splattering paint across the canvas. It was beautiful! She watched as the girl kept splattering paint until she turned around.“Oh, hello. “Were you hoping to be alone? I can leave if you would prefer.” The girl hid her hand quickly behind she back and Ava smiled.
"Not at all, I don't mind company. That is if you don't." She was a messy painter herself, and if the canvas behind the girl was anything to go off of the girl seemed to be too. "Do you paint here often?" Ava asked as she set up her paints and put up her paper. "I haven't really, I used to paint in my room but..." Ava trailed off remembering the horrible mess of paint that had got all over her clothes, bedding and floor, not to mention the hours of cleaning she had spent trying to keep anyone from finding out. She was normally clean person but she was also clumsy and there had been a bit of an accident.
She pulled out her charcoal pencil and began a sketch of her grandfather pulling the features from her memory, his soft, wrinkled face and beautiful, tired eyes under the wonderfully white brow. She planned to either leave it as a sketch or make an identical one with her watercolors to frame them side by side and give them to her Papa as a birthday present.
10
Ava Fletcher
Sometimes the best ideas come when we're upset
258
Ava Fletcher
0
5
Sally
January 04, 2014 12:19 AM
Oh, are you upset? by Sally
The girl before her was young, possibly in her brother's year. She also seemed familiar, and Sally vaguely recalled seeing her about the Aladren Common Room. No name accompanied the face in her mind, but for the time being, identity did not matter. She was an artist, come to create her own world into which she could escape. Perhaps art was her outlet, the channel through which her spirit flowed. And she was a kind one at that. "Not at all, I don't mind company. That is if you don't.""That is kind of you," the brunette replied, head nodding forward in recognition of their shared environment. "You are welcome to the room." Cohabitation was easy, especially with a girl who seemed sweet. Sally had adapted around a much less pleasant newcomer before, an unpleasant step-sister who would remain unnamed, so this was no matter. And anyway, sometimes it was nice not to be alone, to share silence in a welcoming atmosphere, conversation and acceptance understood without the inconvenience of articulation.
Or maybe the silence part was not quite as permanent as she had expected, but the disturbance was also fine. "Do you paint here often? I haven't really, I used to paint in my room but..."
Sally smiled, an unexpressed incident clear without needing spoken. There was a good reason that Sonora provided a specific room for art; it could be incredibly messy. "I've not painted much at all before, actually," she answered candidly, grey-brown eyes glancing briefly to her amateur work, a splattered canvas with still too much white shining through. The empty spots haunted her, hissing and whispering what it used to shout, the insults and jokes at her expense. She could silence them with a few more splatters, a few more colors.
The seventh year settled upon the work quickly springing from the younger girl's pencil, lines that were certain to become more in just a few strokes. "Do you mind if I ask what you are drawing?" she asked with genuine interest. Some people, such as Arnold, did not want others to see let alone discuss their work until it was complete, but others, such as their mother, was fine with sharing prior to completion. Sally seemed to be drifting toward the latter, because she was unconcerned if the girl saw her painting, but it was only polite to figure out which the younger girl was before doing anything else.
0
Sally
Oh, are you upset?
0
Sally
0
5
Ava Fletcher
February 02, 2014 11:35 PM
Not particularly, thought you were by Ava Fletcher
Ava nodded in response to the older girl's welcome to the room. She studied the canvas in front of the older girl briefly, enjoying the bright colors and the bits of white. It looking like a white wall that had once been many other colors but the old paint was starting to wear away the fresh coat. She liked it. Ava turned her attention back to setting up her things and worked in relative silence until her next question."I've not painted much at all before, actually. Do you mind if I ask what you are drawing?"
"Oh, I couldn't tell," Ava answered back honestly, thinking the canvas before the older girl was rather abstract. "It's my grandfather. I'm making him a birthday gift. I always make him something so his birthday. My mom once offered me an allowance to buy him a gift but I overheard him telling one of his friends that a gift a grandchild makes is more precious than even the most expensive of watches." Ava shrugged. "He's a wise man, or so I've been told, so I make him drawings and watercolors."
She looked back at her paper and carefully smudged a laugh line under his eye and erased a portion of the iris to create the sad, knowing gleam that was so often in his right eye. "I think he's a great man, I just feel as though I can never properly reflect it." Ava frowned. "It's not a big deal, I'm only 12 anyway so it's not like I'm supposed to be really perfect at this, it's just, after years of drawing him I feel like I'd be a little bit better. I struggle with trying to keep him real, you know?"
Ava's eyes fell on the abstract painting in front of the older girl. "See, if I could create abstract then it wouldn't be as big a deal, I wouldn't have to worry about getting his face right and just go with where the art takes me. Kind of like yours. It's nice." She offered a sincere smile, glad there was someone else she could talk to about art other than Dimitri who, while nice, sometimes bothered her with how many different kinds of art he could do.
10
Ava Fletcher
Not particularly, thought you were
258
Ava Fletcher
0
5