Random Stories

Art is Deaf

They say that losing any of your senses heightens the others. I've never exactly heard anyone say that, or anything at all. I'm one hundred percent deaf, since the day I was born I haven't heard a single peep. I guess my other senses are somewhat better than a normal persons, but I wouldn't personally know what "normal" senses are like.

I've been told that I see things that other people can't, the quick sideways glance a person does when lying, the tiny speckles on a spider's body, and little designs on seemingly plain plantlife. I took up the hobby of painting and drawing, which is one that doesn't require hearing. My favorite things to paint are not the details only I notice, but items that make sound, as ironic as that is. The opening of the mouth making an "O" sound, the rosin dust flying off the bow and strings of a violin are the things I truly enjoy creating. It's almost as if I'm visualizing sound.

The unfortunate reality of things is that people don't want to buy what I enjoy painting, and instead prefer for me to paint those details that only I see. In a way I feel violated, as if seeing those details should be for me only, I paid the price to achieve that vision by being deaf.

I didn't believe that there were many job offers for deaf people, so I stuck to what I was good at. The artistic hobby I once had turned into a draining job, painting and drawing, begging multiple galleries to display my art. Eventually I had my big break, one of the famous art critics purchased a painting and praised my artistic ability. That gave me some exposure I needed and I became known as the deaf artist.

It was a horrible feeling at first, attending a showing of my art along with rich potential buyers. They whispered to each other about me, not that I could hear, so I didn't even see the point. I did possess the ability to accurately read someone's lips, although people often covered their mouths or mumbled defeating the whole purpose. I got pitying looks by almost everyone there, at least those I understood. I played the part of a poor deaf girl well, conning people to pay more than what my art was worth.

By now I had gotten the hang of things, I sold my art frequently enough that I had a steady source of income, which was nice. My apartment was pretty standard, other than a couple of paintings I did myself. I lived above an art studio where I could work in peace, common patrons and staff had learned a bit of sign language so they could communicate with me.

A couple of people already painting nodded in acknowledgment as I entered the studio, barely looking away from whatever they were working on. I didn't really need to use the studio at the moment, but I didn't really have anywhere to go.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned around to see who it was. It was a man that I hadn't seen here before, late fifties, but dressed way to nicely to actually use the studio. He was saying something and I focused on his mouth, trying to piece together what he was saying.

"My name...ar...-ener...may I...manager..." the man seemingly said, though I wasn't able to make out exactly what he trying to communicate to me.

He gained an annoyed look as to him, I only stared. Luckily for me, Xelia had taken notice of my situation and led the man away towards the back. This was one of the few situations that made me hate being deaf, but I learned to live with it.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I looked down to see what it was. Xelia had texted me the details of the situation and that it wasn't my fault.

Xelia: So apparently he wanted to commission an artist to paint a picture

Xelia: It's kinda funny, that dude was actually looking for you

Me: Really?

Xelia: u should've seen the look on his face when he found out how he treated u