Starry Starry Night {Open}
Jul 2, 2008 8:32:22 GMT -5
Post by Felicity Jane on Jul 2, 2008 8:32:22 GMT -5
Talent can be incredibly intimidating. Felicity had once thought that all great artists must have been astoundingly brilliant—no disrespect, she's positive that 99% of them are—and thus super human, above everyone else, behind the wall of unknowable aptitude that the rest of the world would never breach. Yet, every person at her school could be considered remarkable; a teenage artistic savant.
The cords of her ipod snaked through her hair and down to her pocket. Art galleries were always better with a piano accompaniment. David Lanz played gentle notes in her ear, and every once in a while she adjusted the volume. If it got too loud it would distract her from the art, which is the entire reason she came.
Felicity fidgeted absentmindedly with the last button of her collared navy shirt, snapping it open and shut. Occasionally her fingers traveled to fiddle with the hem of her shorts, but they never hung loosely at her side. Every piece awed her, but the one in front of her left her breathless. She hadn't noticed that her mouth had fallen open and that she probably looked quite ridiculous, but she wasn't expecting to see any other students at an Art Gallery on a Saturday evening.
The painting was just so beautiful. At first glance it appeared to be an underwater scene, a cave perhaps with light shining through at the top and dozens of little creatures swimming towards the beckoning heavens. Once her honey brown eyes focused more, she suddenly realized that there was no light, no cave, and no animals. It was all just color, brilliant strokes of color. The richness of the painting almost burned her eyes, but still her inquisitive eyes remained wide.
She was torn. Part of her wanted to rewind and start over, this time taking art classes instead of dance classes; she wanted to create a dream such as this. But then, part of her was happy that she could simply admire it, bask in its beauty. She wasn't sure how many minutes she had stood there, gaping at the seamless piece of art. Even as she tried to walk away, she couldn't quite tear her eyes away from it just yet.
It was probably a bad idea to turn into the next gallery without glancing away from the beautiful painting. Completely consistent with her past accidents, Felicity collided with something and got some sense knocked into her. "Oh, I'm sorry!" She was too dazed in the moment to notice whether she had run into a person or not. Felicity has apologized to many mannequins in her lifetime.