***Grace's Story***
~~~Author's Note: THIS IS THE STORY THAT SOFIA CREATES..~~~
Authors Note:: Grace is the character that Sofia writes about, her story is the one that Sofia creates.....
Old music, the generation where the music meant something and you could feel every note in your soul and the inner smallest parts of you and you cannot help but love the feeling, I mean why would anyone do drugs because the same high is exhilarating. You can feel the pure emotion and drive behind the music, nowadays music is all about bass and sappy love crap. This music is nitty gritty, it has base but at the same time the song doesn't make you want to purposely cause yourself to spontaneously combust! It has meaning, and everyone from David Allen Coe to Gordon Lightfoot will tell you that it isn't about the money or the popularity, it is about sharing the good music and the utter meaning behind what has been out into melody.The skill to become the best guitar picker, or the best composer wasn't what they cared about, they cared about their own interest in the melody themselves. It's almost like the engulfed themselves into, and it caused the music to be more iconic and more interesting. Lot of people think it is crazy to tell that way but you would just have to experience it to understand it fully and comprehend it. I put that kind of soul and compassion into my art, probably I want to make people feel the same way about my art...
I have never felt love for someone like most people my age, because I never found the person that pulled me off the ground like their suppose to. I am starting to believe being in love isn't real, it is just something that people say in the movies. I have always buried myself in studies, writing, art, and whatever else I could because that is where I always best fit. My life isn't easy, but I still live in it. I lost my dad a few months ago, right after my graduation party, and since then I have yet to move. He was my anchor and now I have to completely fend for myself, but I am expressing it all in my art. That is what is keeping me up, after he passed I put so much into my paintings that people noticed them and they are still selling like hot cakes. Which means I have an income, and selling art means I get a gruesome amount of money for each painting. But I am living...
Whenever I get blocked or have no flame to paint I always go to a mountain top near my home and sit there until some sort of emotion or idea is literally yanked out of me. I go at sunrise and sunset or even sometimes in the dead of night but I always end up with the perfect painting because of it. I don't always travel there but at least once or twice a week.
Then, there was this one day when I walked down to find a boy standing with a laptop, a blanket spread out, a mixer board, and a few other things. He had an inspiration spot to, and I watched him. He had no idea I was there but I watched how the area affected him and watched his fingers caress the board and his mind work at lightning speed. I wondered if that is what I looked like when I painted, or maybe it was one of those completely euphoric and beautiful parts of life....
Being swept away in something so high that you don't realize where the time goes or whose around.. He was the first person I had ever seen that did what I did and loved it. He was the only human that I felt an immediate connection to, even not knowing him. I wanted to with all of my being! Even if it meant the sacrifice of my heart, it didn't matter because he took my heart the moment I saw him fall into his own love...it made me love him..
