Heartbeat || larry ✔

heartbeat

“‘Art’ is embedded in nature; he who can extract it, has it... The more closely your work abides by life in its former, so much the better will it appear... No man shall ever be able to make a beautiful figure out of his own imagination unless he has well stored his mind by copying from life.”

— Albrecht Durer

• • •

the first time i saw him was at the back of the art class. sitting alone with a worn beige rucksack and colourful bands all over his arm.

he was beautiful. not handsome—that word wouldn't do him justice. he sat with his head down low and there blossomed an allure. an allure to befriend him. for once, i saw the appeal of curiosity.

i kept my eyes on him, not once did he look up from his easel. deliberate strokes, messy hands and a sort of emptiness was visible.

i looked at my own empty canvas. it was blank as usual. mr. horan, the art teacher came to a halt beside me. his eyes surveyed my empty canvas—glasses low on his nose.

he sighs, pats my shoulder and murmurs,"something. anything louis. just anything."

i shake my head, giving him the standard answer,"i feel nothing to express, mr. horan. i'm numb."

he moves on, i don't blame him. everyone walks away, it's easy to leave behind stones. they do nothing but make your life harder and heavier. and i was a stone myself.

"you really need to draw something other than these abysses, harry. they're hauntingly empty." i hear mr. horan saying.

i turn and see him rubbing the band boy's shoulder. the boy nods absently, his eyes still trained on his canvas.

he paints endless emptiness and i draw numb nothing. interesting.

but that is the truth, once the rush of emotions is gone—there is nothing but the faint memory of it. life feels hollow and empty and just nothing at times.

for him and i maybe it's a daily thing. i allow myself to ponder and let the curiosity breathe a little.

just a little bit. before i clamp it down.

● ● ●

“Be careful of the words you say,
Keep them short and sweet.
You never know, from day to day,
Which ones you'll have to eat.”

—Anonymous

• • •

i let my thoughts drift. mr. malik is talking about the importance of words.

in a way that's interesting and boring at the same time.

words sometimes hold more power than actions at times.

my mind flashes to the morning.

"louis, you have school. get up!" the annoying voice yells at me.

"i'm up. school's better than being here," i scoff.

"oh lou—"