06 - Enough Just to Make You Go Crazy

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CHAPTER SIX:
𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲

❝ ɪ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴍʏ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ. ❞

✧・゚: - *✧・゚* :・゚- *:・゚✧

"If you want to make the indication of a happy little cloud, all you do is just sorta tap." spoke the man in the telly. 

"I AM DOING THAT, WHY AIN'T IT WORKING? WHERE'S MI HAPPY CLOUD?" it was taking everything in me to prevent myself from tearing this sketch pad I was holding into a million pieces. Again, the things I do for love...

I bet Porcelain's a natural at this. She might even have her own studio and everything. I bet my lucky socks she can even paint in her sleep!

Right now, I was illustrating—or trying to, anyways— a scenery from the wilderness much like the painter in the TV was doing, following his lead. He kept naming colors I didn't even know existed such as phthalo blue and lizard crimson! Or was it alizarin crimson?

Obviously, so far, no good.

"Maybe because you're using your brothers' old broken crayons instead of actual paint?" Jackass intervenes.

"I... haud yer wheesht!" he laughs at my surrender. He continues to play with my brothers, lying with his stomach flat on our old bear rug. I am still doubtful whether or not Dad truly purchased that from a furniture store or hunted it down himself.

"Some little trees back in here." he effortlessly makes wee brush strokes near the line of the horizon, creating these illusions of trees from a distance. It must be a normal sight or a rule of thumb for actual artists, I'm sure, but as an amateur seeing it for the first time... I was absolutely captivated. 

I imitated his brush movements with a used and abused pencil, making quick marks from top to bottom to create what should be leaves. I was getting a bit woozy from constantly looking up to the television and immediately back down to my drawing.

"You're trying too hard for her, Merida. And on your own too. You should've just asked me for help." Jack flatteringly places a hand on his chest and ups his chin whilst batting his annoyingly long eyelashes at me.

"Lad drew a decent bunny once, and now he thinks he's the new Bob Ross." 

"Hey, it did get me the highest grade in class!" 

"Say..." I realized something, "what if you and Bob are related?"

Jack eyes were as narrow as a hanging bridge, "Seriously?"

"What? You two are both Rosses!"

He scoffs as he sets his attention back to attaching tiny race car tracks with my brothers, "Lass was told she could be a descendant of a famous painter once, and now she thinks everyone with the same surnames are related."

"Touché." was all I could say. 

I crumpled the sorry excuse for a drawing I had summoned from the gates of the underworld (let's be honest, literal demons could draw better than me) and threw it over at Jack's noggin. 

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