Status: I will update when I can ♥
Making Sense of Love
Paintbrush Lullabies
My dreams seemed to dance with thoughts of Todd. These past few months with him have been extraordinary; it was as if beauty could truly occur outside the realm of my canvas. He was painting my life in colors I had never dreamed to imagine. We spent some much time dancing and laughing. At this point I knew, I have grown to love him. I haven’t said it of course, but it’s all that I can think about. The way his hand feels on my cheek. The gentle caress of his lips on my forehead, the sound of his laughter, just a few of the constants featured on the reel of thought that plays in my mind. It didn’t help that my mom was always calling and asking about him, prying what information she can from me. I mean she never let a phone call go by when she doesn’t mention him. I say very little, I don’t want to gush and then for everything to end in a way that makes me feel stupid. If I am honest, I don’t want everything to end at all. So I was being very private about us, no one outside of immediate family knew, and even they didn’t know much. I just wanted to be sure about us before making a big deal about things. This is such a hard task for me to do with all these feelings threatening to overpower me.
So today I am painting, each stroke expressing the emotions I couldn’t truly put into words. Not yet, at least. I wondered if people realized that this was what my life consisted of, painting and classical music. I rarely do much else. I only work twice a week at the center for the blind, so I literally live, breathe, and sleep my art. Sometimes I may go out with a friend to a museum to hear the tours or to dinner but I feel safe here. I am safe within the four walls of my home, just me, Daisy and Beethoven. Of course, now there is Todd, who takes me to the park, to sound museums, to the theater to hear plays. Or to the movies to hear how bad they have gotten, then he will whisper to me that they look even worse, to make me feel better. He takes me to pottery class and to classes for me to learn French and Italian. He even takes me to the college where he teaches the history of literature. I just sit and listen to his beautiful voice as he gets into to disputes with students over the greats, like Poe and Dickens. I love how passionate his sounds when he is teaching, it my second favorite way to pass time. These days I find myself at home less and less. I spend my time with Todd, exploring new places and things.
I really do miss him today, but he let me know that he will be away for this weekend. Some conference or whatever, I would have the weekend to spend with my paint brush. Not that it’s a terrible thing, I just miss his presence, he loves to watch me as I paint. Anyway, I plan to get all this emotions down on paper, the emotions that have been dying to be painted. I finally have the time to get around to it. I felt a wave of gratitude towards my mom. I was glad that she never forgets to keep all my art supplies well stocked and nearby. I changed the canvas to a fresh one and raised the volume on my iPod when I heard Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata begin to play. The absolute beauty in each note played almost driving me to tears. Todd says that’s one of his favorite things about me, the way I feel the music that is being played. I ran the brush against the canvas imagining Todd. I thought of every sound that he uttered, every scent that clings to his skin and the fabric of his clothes, every gentle caress of his fingertips. Today he would be my muse; he would be the painting on my canvas.
So today I am painting, each stroke expressing the emotions I couldn’t truly put into words. Not yet, at least. I wondered if people realized that this was what my life consisted of, painting and classical music. I rarely do much else. I only work twice a week at the center for the blind, so I literally live, breathe, and sleep my art. Sometimes I may go out with a friend to a museum to hear the tours or to dinner but I feel safe here. I am safe within the four walls of my home, just me, Daisy and Beethoven. Of course, now there is Todd, who takes me to the park, to sound museums, to the theater to hear plays. Or to the movies to hear how bad they have gotten, then he will whisper to me that they look even worse, to make me feel better. He takes me to pottery class and to classes for me to learn French and Italian. He even takes me to the college where he teaches the history of literature. I just sit and listen to his beautiful voice as he gets into to disputes with students over the greats, like Poe and Dickens. I love how passionate his sounds when he is teaching, it my second favorite way to pass time. These days I find myself at home less and less. I spend my time with Todd, exploring new places and things.
I really do miss him today, but he let me know that he will be away for this weekend. Some conference or whatever, I would have the weekend to spend with my paint brush. Not that it’s a terrible thing, I just miss his presence, he loves to watch me as I paint. Anyway, I plan to get all this emotions down on paper, the emotions that have been dying to be painted. I finally have the time to get around to it. I felt a wave of gratitude towards my mom. I was glad that she never forgets to keep all my art supplies well stocked and nearby. I changed the canvas to a fresh one and raised the volume on my iPod when I heard Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata begin to play. The absolute beauty in each note played almost driving me to tears. Todd says that’s one of his favorite things about me, the way I feel the music that is being played. I ran the brush against the canvas imagining Todd. I thought of every sound that he uttered, every scent that clings to his skin and the fabric of his clothes, every gentle caress of his fingertips. Today he would be my muse; he would be the painting on my canvas.