Paint Stain <Lashton>

I

The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance. ~Aristotle

Ashton's POV

I sat in my seat looking at the bowl of fruit in the middle of the room it was an easy assignment. Paint, sketch, do whatever but make sure the bowl of fruit is on your paper. The only question was how do you make what you do different from what everyone else does.

"Where to start.." I mumbled.

"The beginning." Michael snickered besides me. Michael loved using oil pastels and did so whenever he had the chance. But personally I had something with paint. Bright colors working together in harmony with pastels and darks. I also liked using other materials to highlight it. It gave a feeling that it was popping off the paper.

I went into it full heartedly though. Bright red apple. Sunshine yellow banana, a vibrant green pear. I used my thumb as a form of measurement and continued. I noticed that the tall blonde in a suit was walking around the room. I remembered one of my music-major friends talking about how men from a company walked around in business and economic classrooms looking for interns. I was wondering why he was walking around in a classroom full of art-majors. 

I watched as he walked over to the Miss Cecilia and they were engaging in a hearty conversation. Then she asked the question we were all wondering. "So tell me, Mr. Hemmings, what brings you to an art class if your current job is to look for new interns." 

"Well," The blonde smiled. "We look for people who are bright, intelligent, but also very innovative. People who are original and we can't always have the number-crunching driven people be those innovators. I thought I would look in other places from our typical classrooms." 

"Good luck to him." Michael chuckled to me. I laughed lightly as I continued. There was little to no way that you could wrap any one of these students in a suit and shove them into a room with all of those "number-crunching" people. It would never have worked; after all we knew we did not belong there. They would have no problem in demonstrating that for us.

So, the blonde parted from the teacher as he walked around us. He stopped behind Michael and I and it felt as if we could no longer do anything, like when you are taking a test and all of a sudden your teacher is smiling behind you. 

"I have a question." The blonde spoke behind us.

"What's your name?" I asked as I turned to him.

"Hm? Oh, Luke Hemmings." He flashed a smile. "Anyways," He continued even though I never said I would answer his question. "Why is everyone's pictures different even though you're all painting the same thing." 

Michael and I turned to one another, trying hard not to burst into laughter. "You really don't know a lot about art, do you Mr. Hemmings?"

"You can call me Luke, I'm sure I am not more than a couple of years older than you." Luke started. "But, I don't really understand what you're getting at. It's the same bowl of fruit yet every picture is different." 

"Well..Each book is different. Each song is different. They may be similar but they're different." Michael shrugged. "It makes a lot of sense that each painting is different." Luke leaned on the table behind him and edged us to continue. 

"For starters," I began. "We're each painting it at a different angle. If you go over there, you see fruit that we can't see from over here. Also, people chose to portray it with different supplies. I'm painting the fruit, but Michael is using oil pastels." 

"You're Michael?" Luke pointed at Michael who nodded. "And you?"

"Ashton." I replied. "Anyways, besides all that each style is different as well. Someone may draw more jagged, while others rounder. To you it's probably just a bowl of fruit, right?"

"Well that's what it is." 

"Not entirely." I said. "To someone it could be the home for some bugs, to someone it could be dinner for a starving child. Maybe they're hungry and they want to eat it. It's also how you see all of it. Vision." 

"I never knew art had so much to it.." Luke shook his head slowly. "You get all of this from five pieces of food?" Michael and I nodded our heads in response. "Maybe I should have paid more attention in art class in high school.." 

"They don't teach this." Michael said. "You just kind of, know it. It separates the artist," Michael gestured to us. "From the businessmen." And then gestured towards Luke. 

"Maybe that explains why I can't draw." Luke sighed. "Can you guys do like..Electronic drawing?"

"Of course." Michael laughed. "It's really the same thing, in fact I find it much easier." 

"What about sculpting?" Luke asked.

"Everyone can do it. Everyone can do all of these things." I rolled my eyes. "Whether you have the passion for it is an entirely different story. Something tells me you don't."

"I took mostly business classes in high school." Luke shrugged. "My father would never have encouraged me to go to college to study art." 

"A lot of parents don't." I shrugged. "Most people become starving artists." 

"What is that?" Luke's eyes grew slightly wider as I spoke. 

"An artist who is good, but they have a hard time getting commissioned." Michael said. "It's a very uneasy career, a lot of people in this room minor in art, they have backup plans or it's a side job." 

"Do you two intend on making this your occupation?" Luke asked.

"Of course, some of us aren't good at anything else." I shrugged and turned back, painting the bright colors on the paper. Well aware that Luke was still sitting behind us watching, but I was not all too worried about it.

"I have one question for the both of you." Luke spoke up and we stopped and turned to him. "What exactly is commissioned?" 

"It's essentially being paid for creating artwork for an individual or organization." I replied. 

Luke reached in his pocket and pulled out a small book and pen, he wrote for a couple of minutes and then tore it out, handing it out to each of us. "What if I commission you to make something for the office I work in?" I went wide eyed at Michael as we each looked at the checks we each held. Then Luke handed us two more pieces of paper. "If you think you will, then go ahead and call me, but excuse me I have to go prepare for something." Luke stood up and walked out of the room.

"I think that this is more money than it took for me to go to college.." Michael said quietly as he turned to me. "Is that fool serious? He's paying us each this much money to make him something?" 

"Something's not right here.." I mumbled. "It's way too good to be true." 

AUTHOR'S NOTIFICATION; Ariana

Yay the first chapter, I hope you liked it =3 

Hugs, Kisses, Cuddles and Serenades xX