nefelibata (n.) | ✔️

twenty-eight.

Present. January 3rd, 2019. 

The first day back from the break is always miserable. 

My break had its highlights, but I spent the majority of my days behind held up in my bedroom, newspapers littering the floor as I painted piece upon piece for the art contest. I would've loved to paint outside, but the New York winter chill didn't leave much room for discussion. I ended up leaving my house to babysit, too occasionally. 

Carson decided to buy me an eight-pack of blank canvases for Christmas, and he wasn't giving me the option to ignore my promise of entering this contest. He soon regretted that though because I turned off my phone and trapped myself into my new art studio looking bedroom. My mother cussed me out numerous times for blasting music to inspire creativity. 

Lucky for him I decided to take a break on New Year's Eve, celebrating the dawn of a New Year with him felt just as important to me as my art, and I'm glad I did so. We spent the night at his house, watching terrible children movies with Cleo, Evelyn, and Evie until the countdown to twenty nineteen. 

I felt cheesy when I smiled into a "New Year's Kiss" with Carson at midnight. Things with Carson felt too good right now, and I didn't plan on becoming a boy obsessed kind of girl, but I found myself thinking about him way too frequently and wishing to be with him more than not. I didn't even realize that a lot of my artwork was starting to look more positive and romance-like.

I wasn't changing too much though because once I had noticed I painted a bright landscape, my stubborn ass added dark clouds to invade the shine. My Dad found that amusing. 

I'd never change myself for a boy. Art is still my passion and always will be, no matter what. I still plan to live in my bubble, with or without a boy. I would like to see myself still with Carson at the next New Years celebration, but my life somehow manages to switch itself completely every year. 

So far, I had two fully finished canvas' and one in the works. I decided to get two of my favorites from Mrs.C's room too. When I called to tell her that I was entering a contest, she squealed with glee and said she was sure I would win. 

The judges of the contest required writing describing the paintings and what provoked me into joining. I guess it's because they want to see emotion, or maybe they just want us to explain the artwork, so they don't have to think about it too much. I'm hoping it's the first one. I want people to feel things when they see my work. Real emotions. I want them to have opinions, I just hope that isn't too much to ask for. 

Unfortunately, I was facing what professionals like to call "writer's block," and nothing was coming to mind that accurately portrayed the meaning behind my work. My head was beginning to ache from staring at the blank screen in front of me. 

I groaned and faced my horrid reflection in the mirror. "You suck," I said to myself, reaching for my phone after rolling my eyes. 

Lena
Creative block, want to see you. You free? 

Considering I looked like a sleep-deprived demon from hell, I figured a shower would be good for everyone, especially if Carson decided to grace me with his presence. Once I gathered all the stuff and made my way to the bathroom, I had a text waiting for me. 

Carson
Always free for you. When are ya thinking? 

I smiled, telling him to meet at the Lighthouse Diner for lunch. It's one of his favorites, and now it's one of mine too. 

My shower was quick and easy, except for the ten-minute session I had of just standing under the faucet, blanking out on all my priorities and thoughts. I hopped out and quickly changed, blow-drying and then straightening my long black hair. I needed a haircut, my hair nearly reached my hips and styling it was a bitch.