You Are The One.
Chapter 001. Inside My Brain.
Katarina
The first few rays of sunlight, peaked through the curtains, waking me from my sleep.
I groaned and rolled onto my left side, shielding my eyes with a pillow. I eventually opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the new light. I heaved myself off of my bed, which was constituted of a single queen sized mattress on the floor and padded my way to the window. I spread open the curtain's to reveal a bright, and sunny San Francisco day. I opened the window, letting the freshly, sweet summertime air in. I then made my way to my art studio, which was supposed to be the second room, in my two bedroom flat. The reason I had made it my art studio was that it had a balcony which overlooked Haight street, giving me tons of inspiration for my paintings.
I slipped on my paint-splattered smock over my "pajamas", which was really a plain-white tank-top and a pair of boxer shorts. I grabbed my palette, squirting on the colors that I knew I was gonna need and made my way to the already-set-up easel, near the open balcony doors.
Without hesitation I put my brush to work, right away.
I never thought beforehand what to draw, I just let myself go with the flow, and somehow, I always knew what to paint.
As I let the bristles of my brush wash over the canvas, I let my mind drift off, remembering my days with Ville Valo...
The first few rays of sunlight, peaked through the curtains, waking me from my sleep.
I groaned and rolled onto my left side, shielding my eyes with a pillow. I eventually opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the new light. I heaved myself off of my bed, which was constituted of a single queen sized mattress on the floor and padded my way to the window. I spread open the curtain's to reveal a bright, and sunny San Francisco day. I opened the window, letting the freshly, sweet summertime air in. I then made my way to my art studio, which was supposed to be the second room, in my two bedroom flat. The reason I had made it my art studio was that it had a balcony which overlooked Haight street, giving me tons of inspiration for my paintings.
I slipped on my paint-splattered smock over my "pajamas", which was really a plain-white tank-top and a pair of boxer shorts. I grabbed my palette, squirting on the colors that I knew I was gonna need and made my way to the already-set-up easel, near the open balcony doors.
Without hesitation I put my brush to work, right away.
I never thought beforehand what to draw, I just let myself go with the flow, and somehow, I always knew what to paint.
As I let the bristles of my brush wash over the canvas, I let my mind drift off, remembering my days with Ville Valo...