Writing Prompts (Over One Hundred)

Writing Prompt 71

     The world was at my fingertips. A cherry blossom sky, a crystal clear portrait. A landscape of which I could paint. The new Van Gogh, but better yet. I could make a name for myself. Most artists focus on one type of art medium. I don't. A swish of paint, a smear of oil pastel, a line of pencil, a flick of sharpie, a sketch o charcoal.

     Art was my world, and we belonged together.

     In two weeks I would be going to an Artist Convention. It was a program that had just recently started, I was one of the main reasons it had begun.

     I wanted to meet other artists that were as passionate about art as I was, without worrying about awards and rankings and placements. No. We would go to enjoy each other's art, and our own.

     •••••

     Moments later, I stood up from my place on the carpet, in my bedroom, and shakily held up the finished product of my art. I had used charcoal this time, a medium I rarely used. Ehh. I didn't like it. But I rarely did, anyways. That was probably the biggest factor in my help to create an Artist Convention. I smiled at the thought. I set my sketch off to the side, on my dresser and brushed away the sudden tear that escaped my lashes. It was a portrait of my little brother. My late little brother. I brushed it away, though, knowing that it wouldn't help anything.

     I smiled again, thinking morbid thoughts, laughing at myself for being so pessimistic. There was no time in life to be unhappy. It was already short enough!

     I quickly grabbed my new skinny jeans, some vans, one of my seven pairs, and grabbed a hoodie to complete the outfit. Being twenty three years old, one might think you'd gain style as you grew older. Not me. But I certainly did love wearing these casual outfits.

     My word. I keep getting sidetracked. The Convention was in two weeks and I hadn't told my manager I needed o switch shifts with people for those four days. I squealed with excitement. Yes! We were going to Seattle, I hadn't picked the location, but at least I could visit my grandma. . .

     There I go again. Geez Louis, I was even starting to annoy myself.

     Anyways, moving on. Three words. Seattle. Artists. Convention. Actually I should add to that. I need to start packing, and sketching and drawing and planning and checking with my manager and. . . Agh!

Calm down, calm down.

     I told myself to relax. It didn't help. But I chilled out after a while.

•••••

     Today was the day. I smiled brightly, my lopsided smile grinning wide.

     I had my portfolio, with all of my art inside of it, and my arm was getting tired. Do you know how much free time I have? Too much. And free time means art time which means lots of art.

     Brushing the rain off of my windbreaker, I walked up the steps. I took a nervous breath and swung the door open. Here it was! All of the glory of. . . An empty room. What. I cussed under my breath. Did I have the wrong building?

     I ran back to my car as fast as I could. A car slammed on its brakes  and slammed on its horn. I waved at them, mouthing an apology. I nearly slipped and fell in the puddles of rain, but managed to make it to my car without incident.

     Good ole Meredith. I manually unlocked my burgundy, old 1984 Chevy Celebrity and hopped inside. I snatched the flyer out of my glove box. Oh. Now I knew why I was so confused. It was the same company, but a different warehouse. On the other side of Seattle. I could still make it, though.

     I started Meredith up and zoomed out. People blared their horns at me but I took no notice. I had an Artist Convention to get to.

•••••

     Ten minutes later I had found it. I burst through the door, tears of embarrassment threatening to ruin my mascara. To my surprise, nobody even noticed. Which was good.

     I looked around, noticing a few cute guys, and some real cool paintings. And  other art of course. I found myself chuckling, which made me look like and idiot, I'm sure.

     I walked over to a few people and introduced myself. They didn't notice. They were busy talking amongst themselves. I brushed off the hurt. I was used to this happening, anyways. I heavily shrugged my portfolio farther up my shoulder, so that I wouldn't drop it. I found myself near tears. Oh well. I should be used to it now, I thought grimly. These aren't unusual circumstances.

     However, somebody finally came up to me. He extended a hand, which I took.

     "Hi, I'm Parker."

     And I knew we were going to be good friends right then.

Take it from here!

Thanks for reading! Did you guys doing anything fun or influential for Veterans Day? Tell me in the comments! Also take a moment to thank the veterans for all they've done. Thanksgivings bing is coming up! Yum. Guess what I did? I went to Oklahoma and Texas over the weekend. I'm on my way home rn. I'm in the plane on my way to Seattle. Coincidence? I think not, lol. Ooooh, I can see the space needle from here. Coolio. Anyways, I went to Oklahoma to watch Ahmad Thomas who is in the Oklahoma Sooners college team, he is out friends son in law. They won majorly. That was cool. I'm totally rambling but I blame it on major, major lack of sleep. Thanks again!

Payton Janae. :)