A field trip to the art museum.
You weren't there because you were more into music than physical art. Band was more your thing and taking online classes during the summer enabling myself to squeeze in extra art classes during the year was mine.
My friend Emilee stood next to me with a camera she bought for her photography social media account. She had an artsy aesthetic aurora in every way imaginable. It was a calming kind of beautiful... calming in the sense that it was so effortless.
She was known for taking slightly blurry pictures. That was her style, her trademark.
I stared at the flower painting in front of us. So did she.
"It's so vivid and clear," she admired, "the contrast of pinks swirl just right."
"It's crisp, but soft at the same time." Describing art wasn't as easy as simply enjoying it.
Emilee took a blurry picture of the clear flower painting.
My art teacher always told us "art is the way it is" and I think things being the way they are is beautiful. Beauty in identity.
YOU ARE READING
When I Felt Beautiful
Short Story"feeling beautiful has nothing to do with what you look like. i promise" -emma watson // a collection of moments when ainsley torrid felt beautiful
