Blood And Guitars

Chapter 17

The next day O’Shea and I spent a few hours recording feedback for “Sweet Disguise.” Okay, so I didn’t do much other than sit there and joke around with him while he did the work. O’Shea always has been a better guitar player than I am. Don’t get me wrong, I know my way around the instrument pretty well, but something about O’Shea’s brain is just wired exactly right for playing guitar. I’d put him up against pretty much anybody. Honestly, it was a good day for me not to have much responsibility as far as recording goes. I was a little preoccupied anticipating my painting lesson with Aurora. Just as we were wrapping up for the night, Serena brought out a big platter of homemade sandwiches. It took me about twenty minutes to scarf a few of them down and then I jumped in my vehicle and headed for Cleveland Street. I found myself hoping that Dr. Mark wouldn’t be there as I reached The Waking Moon.

Just as promised, Aurora had left the back door unlocked for me. I turned the knob and let myself inside. There was music playing from somewhere above.

“Hello?” I shut the door behind me. “I heard the artist who owns this joint might be up to giving a painting lesson tonight.”

“I’m up to it if you are,” Aurora’s voice called back. “Come on up.” The volume of the music dropped considerably as I walked forward.

I climbed the stairway and found myself standing in a loft with a long table toward the back. Several paintings were hanging along the back wall and there was a small kitchenette on the far left. A myriad of paint tubes, brushes and other containers were organized on the table. A few small lounge chairs were positioned at the half-wall next to me and a rolling tray of some kind sat in the corner. Aurora stood a few feet away placing a medium sized canvas on an easel. She looked up and smiled at me when I approached.

“Nice work space you have here,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said. “It suits my needs.”

I stepped forward to get a better look at the pieces that were hanging along the back wall. “Any reason these aren’t downstairs with the others?” I asked curiously.

“I just finished this one a few nights ago.” She pointed to a night scene with a pyramid. “It’s probably dry to the touch now, actually,” she continued. She gestured to the other two hanging next to it and added, “I still need to varnish these. I might get them finished tonight while you create your first masterpiece.”

“Masterpiece, huh?” I chuckled. “Don’t know if we should be throwing that term around so loosely.”

“Have you thought about what you want to paint?” She picked up an apron that had been draped over the end of the table.

“Not really,” I admitted, feeling like an idiot.

She stepped up to me and looped the top string of the apron over my head. “The most important thing is to paint what you love.” Then she stepped around me slowly and pulled on the side strings, tying them together behind my back. “So, I guess the question is what do you love?”

I bit my lip. “More specifically, what do I love that I can attempt to paint?”

“That too,” she agreed.

I wracked my brain for a few seconds and then said, “How about a guitar?”

“I think that’s reasonable.” She went to the table and gestured for me to follow her. She handed me a palette and pointed to the various colors of paint tubes laid out. “Get some color on your palette. Don’t worry if you don’t find the exact shades you want here. We can mix them up as we go. First, I’d start with the background of the painting. Decide what colors you want behind the guitar.”