Pale Vanilla Lily
Faucet Vomiting Spouts
A candied apple red suitcase and two burnt beetle brown leather shoes complimented the pavement this evening. The cracks of the sidewalk burped out short green weeds that had the pleasure of being crushed by her feet. With a subtle clumsy click clack the shoes pounded the ground out of tune. There was no beat nor pattern to her footsteps as she was dragged by the hand by her Mother, I assumed. Her face was pale with darker skin pigmentation that were blotchy on her right cheek and stretched to her neck. It dipped almost level to her collar bone. How silly it made her look, but all that more unique. I could not see from far her hands and legs, but imagined them blotchy too. Her face wore a frown that tugged so dramatically at the corners of her mouth you’d think she was mocking someone.
Both the child and mother followed the path left then entered the office of my apartments. A flutter of joy sprung up inside of me as realization hit. Were they moving into these nice Sundayle Apartments where I live? First she was just a fantasy, but now a cloud of thoughts that manifest itself into a possible idea. Yes, I may be jumping the gun on this one, but when a little piece of heaven stumbles into your realm you must try. A man like me is so easily obsessed. The way she moved and swung her limbs in that childish manner brought something among me. The fingers of warmth reached deep to my bones then caressed as I stepped back from my drawn open curtains.
I sighed and decided to stop peeping from my balcony. My feet turned me around to face the inside of my ill-lit apartment. She could lighten this place up. Like a star sitting on my floor playing with my paintbrushes or getting acrylic stuck on the carpet. I sat in a chair in the empty, vacant living area. It had green velvet that fabricated the back and bottom which rubbed soft against my bare arms. The golden brass held the coldness of the evening pressing it on my calves. The room was crowded with paints, canvas, thrift store finds, and unneeded furnishing. Most of which had no significant meaning to me. All these things surrounded me but not one item suffocated me. Nothing in this room invaded my loneliness. Like an untouchable sea urchin, I live alone.
Sometimes I'd wonder whether or not I bought these burdens to comfort myself and fill up some space. Even though I know they won’t. They are all in the way, really. Constantly, it seemed, that I was growing tired of my current state. My hand reached absent mindlessly to feel upon the table cloth until it found a glass. I brought it to my lips and drank deep the brandy inside. Slowly, I stood from the chair holding myself up with a firm hand on the table. I stretched and felt all thirty-four years of my existence hit me all at once
My feet found way to the kitchen where I grabbed some cleaned brushes and a colorful piece of cardboard as a palette. Both of these I set down onto a table in the living area on the opposite side of the velvet chair. Fake grapes grabbed at the brush handles with it's vines. Oil paints laid everywhere from yesterday's art session. I tore down a drying brick red cow and set it in the hall to my room. With little effort, I put up another blank off white canvas piece. On the palette I poured grape seed oil and mixed it with a violet-white. Taking the paint brush into my hand I thought of trampled pale white lilies. Soft with blotches of browns where they had been stepped on. I thought of the second hand happiness the sweet cherub gave me in the burnt beetle leather shoes. The paint brush dragged through the violet white in the same fashion the mom dragged her daughter. Eagerly, the paint brush grooved over the smooth canvas displaying my mind. Carefully, it formed something that could invade my loneliness.
Soon I switched colors to an oiled down dirt brown and shaded the bent petals of the lilies with that. It was getting dark outside when I began the blue hues of the background. Every art class will tell you to finish the background before proceeding to the focused object. I guess I never held the correct amount of patience for such waiting. When I paint something I conjure up whatever it is I wish to paint in my head then paint it. Not the silly background.
Slowly I sat down in front of the piece to observe. I had finished the painting an hour prior and had been sitting staring at what I had reflected from memory. Dirty pale white lilies shined wet in the little bit of light that did enter the room. The happiness from earlier visited me again, but got duller every time. I'll just have to make sure to see her soon in order to renew this feeling.
Both the child and mother followed the path left then entered the office of my apartments. A flutter of joy sprung up inside of me as realization hit. Were they moving into these nice Sundayle Apartments where I live? First she was just a fantasy, but now a cloud of thoughts that manifest itself into a possible idea. Yes, I may be jumping the gun on this one, but when a little piece of heaven stumbles into your realm you must try. A man like me is so easily obsessed. The way she moved and swung her limbs in that childish manner brought something among me. The fingers of warmth reached deep to my bones then caressed as I stepped back from my drawn open curtains.
I sighed and decided to stop peeping from my balcony. My feet turned me around to face the inside of my ill-lit apartment. She could lighten this place up. Like a star sitting on my floor playing with my paintbrushes or getting acrylic stuck on the carpet. I sat in a chair in the empty, vacant living area. It had green velvet that fabricated the back and bottom which rubbed soft against my bare arms. The golden brass held the coldness of the evening pressing it on my calves. The room was crowded with paints, canvas, thrift store finds, and unneeded furnishing. Most of which had no significant meaning to me. All these things surrounded me but not one item suffocated me. Nothing in this room invaded my loneliness. Like an untouchable sea urchin, I live alone.
Sometimes I'd wonder whether or not I bought these burdens to comfort myself and fill up some space. Even though I know they won’t. They are all in the way, really. Constantly, it seemed, that I was growing tired of my current state. My hand reached absent mindlessly to feel upon the table cloth until it found a glass. I brought it to my lips and drank deep the brandy inside. Slowly, I stood from the chair holding myself up with a firm hand on the table. I stretched and felt all thirty-four years of my existence hit me all at once
My feet found way to the kitchen where I grabbed some cleaned brushes and a colorful piece of cardboard as a palette. Both of these I set down onto a table in the living area on the opposite side of the velvet chair. Fake grapes grabbed at the brush handles with it's vines. Oil paints laid everywhere from yesterday's art session. I tore down a drying brick red cow and set it in the hall to my room. With little effort, I put up another blank off white canvas piece. On the palette I poured grape seed oil and mixed it with a violet-white. Taking the paint brush into my hand I thought of trampled pale white lilies. Soft with blotches of browns where they had been stepped on. I thought of the second hand happiness the sweet cherub gave me in the burnt beetle leather shoes. The paint brush dragged through the violet white in the same fashion the mom dragged her daughter. Eagerly, the paint brush grooved over the smooth canvas displaying my mind. Carefully, it formed something that could invade my loneliness.
Soon I switched colors to an oiled down dirt brown and shaded the bent petals of the lilies with that. It was getting dark outside when I began the blue hues of the background. Every art class will tell you to finish the background before proceeding to the focused object. I guess I never held the correct amount of patience for such waiting. When I paint something I conjure up whatever it is I wish to paint in my head then paint it. Not the silly background.
Slowly I sat down in front of the piece to observe. I had finished the painting an hour prior and had been sitting staring at what I had reflected from memory. Dirty pale white lilies shined wet in the little bit of light that did enter the room. The happiness from earlier visited me again, but got duller every time. I'll just have to make sure to see her soon in order to renew this feeling.