Cecilia Violet was beautiful. She had a beautiful mind and a beautiful heart. She was an artist. She took great pride in her art. In a world of black and white she was the rainbow. She wore wavy, almond colored hair, and dark brown eyes. Cecilia resided in the small town of Matisse. With a population of 700, it was hardly considered a town, but it was home nonetheless. The majority of the inhabitants of Matisse were forty or fifty years older than Cecilia, who was at the ripe age of twenty. This made the town rather quiet and dull, but she took no notice. She had a dream, and was more than determined to make sure it came true. She would be a world famous artist, and every living being would know her name and admire her works.
Cecilia moved to Matisse straight out of high school, purchasing her studio with the money her parents had saved for her college education. But she had other plans. Those of which did not involve spending countless hours in a classroom learning things that were of no importance to her. Her parents were ashamed to see her disregard these things which they viewed as key assets to a successful future. But she did not care. They would understand someday. Someday when her future is but nothing of a concern.
Everyday Cecilia would sit in her studio creating beautiful artwork. She would spend her mornings sipping warm, sweet cocoa in the local bakery, as she sketched out portraits of perfectly shaped people who looked exactly as she has depicted them. She drew animals that would make one think they were simply viewing a photograph. She would then tip the kind waitress, Chartreuse, and wave a cheerful goodbye before strolling out onto the dim streets towards home. Chartreuse would call out a final farewell before disappearing back behind her counter. Chartreuse was adorned with locks of a silvery gray, her tight curls shining with the glare of the lights. She wore black, rectangular glasses, hiding her shimmering blue eyes beneath. Her face was worn and wrinkled, but incredibly soft and kind. She always wore a smile.
Cecilia's afternoons were spent researching new aspects of the world to illustrate. She was content with this. It gave hope to her future dream of presenting her work in the local art gallery.
One chilly December morning, Cecilia was enjoying her cocoa while sketching a portrait of her favorite actress. Upon looking up, she noticed that one of her pencils had fallen to the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, she bumped into Chartreuse who was clearing off the booth parallel to her own. "I'm so sorry!" Cecilia gasped. "Not to worry, love." Chartreuse replied calmly. Her lips were curled into a warming smile as her eyes connected with Cecilia's. Her attention then drifted over to the table at which Cecilia's supplies were sprawled out.
"Hmm." Chartreuse hummed, a furrowed brow displaying her interest. Her eyes were still fixed upon the spot right behind Cecilia. Cecilia turned her head to discover what had Chartreuse so mesmerized. "So this is what you've been working on all this time?" Chartreuse wondered, making her way over to the light wooden table. A proud smile crept onto Cecilia's face as she joined Chartreuse around her table. This was the first time since she lived with her parents that anyone had observed her work."Yes it is!" Cecilia beamed, tucking her brown hair behind her ears. She allowed the old woman to glance through the detailed portrayals she had done. A few moments later, Chartreuse closed the sketchbook, running her finger down the spine.
"W-well." Cecilia stuttered. "Do you like them?" She asked, the anxiousness now burning in her eyes. There was an uncomfortable look on the face of Chartreuse, and she looked around as if searching for the right words. The hopeful smile faded from Cecilia's face as she stared at Chartreuse. "You don't." Cecilia said shortly, looking down to play with her fingers, the look of disappointment prominent. "Art," Chartreuse began as Cecilia looked up, "is about expression. It is not about what looks beautiful and pleasing to the eye. Oh no. It is about showing how you feel with colors and designs and words and sharing it with others. There may be art that some despise, but others adore simply because they can sense what the artist was attempting to portray. That is what makes art so beautiful, so breathtaking. And it is that art that will attract millions." Chartreuse gave a sympathetic smile. "You have talent." She said very simply. "Use it." She gave a wink at Cecilia before disappearing behind the counter once more.
Suddenly Cecilia felt furious. How dare she? Who is she to tell her about art?What does she know! She's just an old hag wasting her life working in a bakery! Cecilia felt the same sense of anger she felt towards her parents when they doubted her years ago. She stormed out of the bakery and towards her studio.
Upon retuning home, Cecilia pushed open the door, slamming it behind her. Unsure of what to do with these emotions inside her, Cecilia began to sob. She threw herself upon the floor, jerking her hands up to her face. As she sat there, she envisioned the kind face of Chartreuse twisting into disapproval so quickly. A new surge of anger flourished through her body as she jumped up, her weeping now louder than before. She ran over to where all her art supplies lay in an unorganized heap. Picking up a can of yellow paint, Cecilia let out a hysterical cry before dumping the can all over a blank canvas that was close by. She threw the bucket aside before charging over to her paintbrushes and picking them up. Blinded by tears, Cecilia grasped her bottle of green paint and squirted it desperately on the surface of the brush. Visions of Chartreuse's pursed lips and furrowed eyebrow flooded Cecilia's mind. She turned around, whipping the paintbrush at the canvas as it skidded across it and into the floor. The sobs became more of a whimper as Cecilia slowly collapsed once more on the ground. She lightly placed her finger in an open can of blue paint. She began to hear the words of Chartreuse, and they were still full of criticism. Again, the anger returned, and as Cecilia stirred, her hand was plunged into to bucket of paint. She began to beat at the canvas, the words still ringing in her head. Blue paint was splattered onto the canvas with her sobs once again breaking what would have been pure silence. Picking up a gold paint bottle, Cecilia squirted it at the canvas with words of spite protruding from her mouth. She kicked the bottle across the floor. Picking up the canvas, she made her way towards the door. Exasperated, Cecilia threw the canvas outside, slammed the door, and sank onto the floor, her face in her hands once more. She began to weep quietly until, in exhaustion, she fell asleep.
Cecilia awoke the next morning with a startle. She was confused as it took her a moment to realize where she was and why she was there. Instantaneously, memories from the previous night flew back into her mind. She began to feel a bit ashamed of the way she had acted, the way she wasted all her art supplies out of pure rage. She stood up, checking the time. It was almost lunchtime, but she was not hungry. Feeling miserable, Cecilia decided to go for a walk. The chill of the cold October morning was evident as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. As she walked further towards downtown, Cecilia noticed a large group of people gathered about. Walking slightly faster, she saw that the crowd contained a news crew complete with cameras and microphones, and they were all standing in front of the art gallery with wide eyes. Cecilia felt a jolt of pain at the sight of the gallery, but was too curious to walk away. She stepped closer on her tiptoes, trying to figure out what was happening. Suddenly, a tall thin reporter with curly, blonde hair burst out from the crowd. "So it's yours, I hear?" She said facing the camera with a fake smile plastered on her overly-colorful face. "Umm..what?" Cecilia stammered. "You're Cecilia Violet! The one who created the painting! Tell us, what inspired you to do this piece?" the woman asked perkily. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean? What painting?" Cecilia asked, utterly baffled by what was taking place. "This painting was brought to the gallery by an old woman last night." the reporter explained, holding up her cell phone to display a copy of the painting. "The back of the canvas read 'Cecilia Violet' and we were told that was you." She finished. Suddenly, it all made sense to Cecilia. "So," reporter started again. "What do you call this piece?" A smile exploded on Cecilia's face as she quickly began to take it all in. Her artwork was finally recognized. Everyone in town had seen it and she would soon be famous. Jerking back to reality, Cecilia didn't have to think for a moment before she answered. She looked into the camera with her big brown eyes and said with a prominent smile, "I call it, Chartreuse."
