The Art prodigy (Gerita)

19

"Alright, will all the competitors step to the back of the stage in perspiration!" The announcer spoke. I looked around at all the other people I was going up against, and I suddenly felt nervous. Since it was a competition day, I made sure to make myself look good for the judges. We were allowed to bring a box full of art supplies that we could use during the
Contests, so, of course, I brought my special box. It could fit a lot of supplies in it and I literally kept ever almost everything in there anyway. They provided canvases and stands, so I was glad I didn't have to worry about that.

"Now, all of you can go ahead and take any seat in the circle," a man told us. We were in this type of gymnasium with chairs in a circle. The crowd was sitting in the stands around the area where the artists were. "GO FELI!!!!" I heard a yell. I quickly turned my head to see that Alfred was jumping around and Kiku tried to get him to stop. Everyone was here as promised, and it made me extra happy knowing this.

I took a seat across the stadium, where I could look at everyone easily. They all gave me thumbs up, and I honestly wanted to cry from how happy I was. "Alright, now we will begin once I explain the genre," the man said. "I want you all to tell the judges a little bit about yourself. Express it through your art to clearly show the type of person you are. It must express your feelings from a memory or thought that challenges your self-worth and self-belonging. I wish all of you luck, and you have 10 minutes to think."

The timer was pushed, and I noticed how all the other artists looked around nervously. If I'm going, to be honest, I was nervous too. What did he mean by that? To paint something that is me, but it must tell a story? A story that expresses my feelings of self-worth? Is my self-worth? A sense of belonging? What was that? Self-worth is defined as someone who is a good person who deserves respect. Was I a good person?

I'd want to say that, but I know I've only been selfish. I've been leading Ludwig on, knowing that we can't be together. But was it me being selfish? I wonder if I was meant to do something else besides attend a fancy school. There was more to life than that! I want to be a teacher, have a family with whoever I choose, and definitely go to whatever school I want to go to.

My sense of belonging started with them; my self-worth began with Ludwig. I've been challenged from the very moment I started to paint to the point where my brother left, and I carried the burden of wanting my grandfather to be proud. However, it will end with this newfound accomplishment I've given myself that lets me become someone new. No... not new; I've always been like this, unaware of how deserving it is.

"You may begin," the man spoke. I looked over at my friends and family and saw how Ludwig gave me a thumbs up. That was it; that was all I needed to see. I quickly opened up my box of art supplies and took out my oil paints. I was going to draw how my heart felt, which has always been represented through the scenery. I imagine the scenery as being a large field of wheat.

There is a person alone in the large field looking ahead. I don't know where, but it is important. It is also important to ensure that the "ahead" view is painted with vivid colors that pop out to the eye. It would make people question what was out there so much that they wanted to find out.

The boy in the field is me.... I have my hat down my chest, dropping my paintbrush to the ground. There is a smile on my face as I look ahead. All the answers to life are given to me, and I feel secure. 

~
I lost track of paint, and before I knew it, it was time for me to stop painting. Luckily, I was able to finish my piece. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked at my friends and family. They all looked at me with jaws dropped. Why were they looking at me that way? I soon realized that the cameraman had the camera right in my painting. It made me turn red, but I couldn't do anything about it.

I breathed out deeply, and all the artists were instructed to go to the back of the stage again. "How were you able to finish painting that in that short amount of time?" Someone asked me. I looked at them and shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not sure; I think I may have blanked out," I answered. Everyone looked as if I was insane for saying that, but it was true. It was like my body knew what to do, and my mind relaxed the whole time.

I looked at the tv screen in the back room and saw that the cameraman was slowly showing everyone else's paintings. They all looked beautiful, and I'm sure it will be competitive.  The award ceremony wasn't for another hour, so we were allowed to go and take a break. "Are we allowed to go to our families?" One artist asked. "Yes, but be back here ten minutes before awards," a lady answered. I smiled at the answer and quickly rushed off to find my friends and family. I am content with them being here, more than how I might do. I don't think I cared much about the results.

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