Making Sense of Love

I started an art workshop a month after my brother’s stunt with school. It was only three blocks from my apartment, so Daisy, my Seeing Eye dog, didn't have to do much walking. Plus I didn't have to rush out the door early, or worry about being late. It was only a seven minute walk at best. I yawned, not used to waking up this early on a Saturday. I am always guilty of sleeping in on weekends. I smelled the bakery next down to the studio and vowed to myself to pick up some fresh baked doughnuts on the way back. I have a monster sweet tooth. I opened the studio's front door and took a deep breath before entering further. I walked into the room and told Daisy to lead me to the seat closet door to the exit. I sat when I felt the stool and waited for some instruction. I fiddled with my fingers and listened to the sounds around me. I could hear the breathing of ten other people. Two sounded labored, the others healthy. I was trying to pinpoint where they all sit when; I heard the door open and hurried footsteps move to the center of the room.

“Hello students. My name is Mary Givens. I am the instructor of this class, or workshop. Whatever you want to call it is fine by me.The majority of people in this room cannot see. It’s me and one other student, who is a male, who can see. Well I wear glasses, he doesn't. Anyway, the rest of you are true artist. You see with your hearts that is far more beautiful. That is why I keep this course open mostly to the blind community. I hope that doesn't offend anyone.”

I heard a few awkward coughs and the scarping of a few stools against the floor.

“Okay, well,” Mary cleared her throat, “today I wanted to have you all start simple. I want you to paint what you imagine the room to look like. As for you Todd, I want you to paint with this blindfold on throughout the classes. So you can get a feel of it. Today you will paint a portrait of yourself, blindfolded of course. ”

“Okay.” I heard a smooth baritone reply.

His voice was enough to give me shivers. It made him sound gorgeous. It was the dreamy voices that always made a girl swoon. I could hear that the others had started their work, so I shook off the silly thoughts and started too. I closed my eyes to better visualize how I thought the room to look. I listened to the echoes of the sounds for the dimensions of the room. I recalled the way high school classrooms were colored, how the floors and ceilings looked. This room can’t be much different than that. Then I remembered the old studio I used to love, I mesh those two rooms into one. Then I drew what I saw, and slowly using the pencil on my page. When I wanted to start to fill it in with colors I moved my stool closer to the easel. I felt the labels on each paint and memorized the location of each one. I got to work quickly; the course was only three hours every Saturday, so you had to work fast. I had spent most of my time, making the outline of the painting. I fell into my painting world and everything else faded into the background. It wasn’t until I felt Mary, hovering over me that I knew she was behind me.

“This is incredible Karen; it’s almost an exact replica of this room.” She leaned closer to me. “Truly brilliant. I can see your unique touches in it. I feel honored to have a talent like your's in my workshop.” She squeezed my shoulder and moved on to the next person.

I felt myself beaming I loved when my art was appreciated. Especially by someone who’s entire living consisted of Art. I happily completed my piece, while the last moments of the workshop came to a close. I was already eager for next week. When the workshop was over I waited for everyone else to leave first. I liked to leave a place last. It kept me from feeling nervous about bumping into someone. Something I used to do a lot in the beginning, so the fear stuck with me. Even with Daisy leading the way. After everyone else trickled out, well that’s when Mister Baritone himself walks up to me. He placed his hand gently on my shoulder, leaning over to peer at my canvas. I felt the heat of his hand through the fabric of my shirt.

“Your work is amazing, I can’t wait to see what else you have in store for me.” Then he stood up straight and I heard him walk out.

My heart was pounding a bit, “me either.” I replied to no one at all.