Letter Book

Cameron; the Brother

They say a brush is an artist's pen, and a voice is a singer's pencil. Yet, I can't do either, so I'll just turn to this. I can't spill my heart out into a canvas- it'd look like a big, ugly blob of mashed up colors. And I can't sing it to you, either- because if I did, you'd probably cover your ears and ask me to stop. So, with no other choice, I turned to this canvas, one white as snow, yet thin as air. With letters etched so neatly into this crisp paper, I hope the words I convery here will paint a picture as beautiful as the stars that twinkle in the sky, as bright as the sun that might be shining out today, or even as profound as your presence has become for me.

Cameron, you're my friend. Let me just say that. You're my best friend- the one I consider a brother. My brother. Sure, I never actually had any, and my sister isn't quite as understandable, but just let me continue, okay?

Do you remember when we first became friends? Well, I barely do either, so I guess that makes two of us. I do remember one thing, though, when I first saw you- what a weirdo he is my mind blared, quick to make assumptions. However, surprisingly, the next thing I thought was I want a friend like that., because being normal's overrated anyways.

Yes, you're weird- but that's what's unique about you. And, well, I wouldn't change that for the world.

Oh, jeez, I'm rambling now, and that'll never do. But, there's so much I want to say to you, even though it's probably rather strange, too.

Well, you're fifteen now- haha, you're so old...No, JK- I'm just jealous you're older than me. However, I have a story, if you don't mind me reading.

I once drew on a canvas, full of shimmering, swirling colors. But the shimmers turned to stars, and the colors turned to skies. When I finished with the painting, it covered the whole page- flooding the white out with so many different shades. Admiration was first, a bold shade of deep blue. It commanded my attention- hey, just like you. Then came ambivalence, as it trickled down from admiration navy trail. Tainted a royal purple, I couldn't help but notice it reflected how jumbled it seemed to me. Clumps of violet dotted around the place, some darker than others, while it still seemed to blend. After ambivalence had run it's rather bumpy course, a streak of guilt dashed by. It was almost non-existent, a little streak of sharp yellow. And yet, when I saw it, the sense of shame approached.

Turning away from that part, yellow dripped into red, which brings us to elation. It danced across the the this fabric, swirling with both purple and red, even mixing with yellow, before leaving itself alone.

After red had finished it's dancing, however, it slowly transformed to a fading shade of gold. Pride. It wasn't as carefree as elation, or as violent as guilt. Nor was it bold like admiration, or clumped up like ambivalence. No, pride was different. It was quiet, shy, awkward, and misplaced. Pride was there, but just barely- peeking out from beneath all the others as it stared out into my eye.

Now, with all these colors flowing through the canvas, I had no idea how to name it. There was no subject to the drawing, no method to this galactic madness, no..no set idea to tie it to its conception. So I wondered and waited, until I finally found the answer.

Emotions. These were my emotions for someone close to me. All jumbled and cluttered, violent and subtle, deep and vibrant colors..All the colors on the canvas where emotions I could not name, things I couldn't find the right words for. But, even with such uncultured, unspoken, uncontrollable emotions, some still dripped onto the carpet, as it stained itself a shade full of shades, a color full of colors, an essence derived of essences.

With no idea what to do with such a piece, I decided to submit it to a gallery, where all art should go, right? However, nor the director, or even I had words to describe such an art, so with that, it was sent back home. I hung the canvas on the walls, and hoped it wouldn't drip- however, it bled through the white, and spread down to the ground.

By now it must be apparent, both for you, and for me, that these emotions I'm feeling- well, they're overflowing their boundaries. It bled through the edges of a canvas, sunk deep into a wall, it even seeped into the carpet, and I'm sure that's not all.

So one day, I decided, I'd set this bleeding boundary out. Somewhere with no boundaries, and nothing to hold them back. Tying balloons to the edges, and make sure it was afloat, I stood out on the grass, and watched as it grew distant. As it floated into the sky, baby blue engulfed the galaxy shaded canvas, as it flew into the skies and stars above. However, by the time night fell, it had bled out among the sky. As I looked up, I saw my canvas, full of adoration, ambivalence, and more.

Yet, I know now, the true colors lie in my heart.