"These portraits are so symbolical! Just look at the brush strokes they're making!" Elizabeth Stone says. Really? All these art pieces are worthless, not a single dime should be spent!
"Students if you'll follow me now, I'd like to introduce you to Edward Jeanin. The artist of the exhibition." McKenedy announces.
After witnessing the artworks of famous artists create mindful intrusive arts, these paintings spoke of desperation and scam worth a million. I felt miserable to be in this art exhibition.
I desperately tried hard to look and find the symbolism and emotion from the art pieces, but nothing prevailed.
I didn't bother to check out who this Jeanin was, because if I did, I would've incinerated his flesh.
"These portraits too much for you?" she asks.
Like a guilty soldier, she comes forward with her confidence lowered and her mind very loud. She wanted to know if I was alright.
I was...now that she was here.
"They're overly exaggerated." I say, trying to make some conversation. "Really? I think the blotches of purple in the green and the curved white lines make it look like a trapped beast, I was thinking, purple bear."
"Hmm...I just see paint being splattered randomly everywhere..." "It's called abstract for a reason Caivanial..." she starts to lighten up when I showed no hostility.
"Well, abstract is terrible. It's like telling people stealing is another way of getting money."
"It's art."
"Hey, I say tomato you say tomata."
She starts giggling then, and continues to follow me as I walk to the next painting. This was the first time this has ever happened; her following me instead of vice versa.
...Probably because I've missed school for two weeks.
"Alright, what about this one?" she asks me.
"I see green, black, blue and white...mixed up to form what I call...shit" I leave for the next one, but she catches hold of my hand and pulls me back in. "Wait. Look closely..." she instructs me.
Her eyes persuade me deeply, that I couldn't help but follow her order. "Look at the blue. It's the background of the entire portrait, like the universe. The green, there's only one massive blotch with the shade of white in it to make rings. That's a planet. The other spots of white. They're the little stars. And the black, that's the darkness, the wormhole." "Yeah, so basically this painting is evil."
"No its, not." she disputes and yanks my hand again, "You're not seeing it properly. Look at where the white is spreading. It's on top of the darkness."
"So?" I questioned. "...what difference does it make?"
"It means that even in the darkest part of the world, even those parts can produce miracles." "You sure its producing light? Not sucking the life out of that made-up universe?" I reason.
"Is that you talking or the painting, Caivanial?" she's annoyed.
"The painting." I say and wonder off.
She was going to ask me about the two weeks. About where I'd gone off to, about why I wasn't answering her messages or calls.
"Caivanial, just wait! I'm sorry for doing that to you the other night." "But...?" I press her.
"You're a nice guy Caivanial...but, I can't help but wonder what's going on in your life?" "I'm not telling you, Alex. And that's final." I walk away to stand near the entrance. She is a mad, short-tempered agog little brunette. She walks back to Abby and Maverick and starts ranting about how obstinate and mulish I was.
YOU ARE READING
bluebird WRATH
RomanceShe's attacked by her crush, only to be saved by the boy she deemed a stalker, Caivanial. As a friendship begins, she tries to end it when newcomer Damien arrives at Quilfren. With a building murder case against her and her only two friends harborin...
