It's chilly. I do not know why our climate is comfortable and often times warm. The cold has not only caught my attention but father's as well. My birthday has never been cold until this year. Yes, I classify this type of weather cold. Could it be that our climate here is growing colder? If so what could be the cause and why would is it this way. One good thing will come about today and it is that father will finally let me use his expensive paints on one of my own pieces. I have done exactly as he told me and have put outline and shading before actually starting the painting. Everything will come together in the future lessons. Though I am a woman and I am not supposed to be taught unless in training to be a nun, he has taught me so much in my time here. He has taught me English for one. He says it has to do with the secrecy of my diary. I do not understand this for he knows English, and the other men who have come to the shop seem to understand it as well. The other men come and go. Father receives letters from them on occasion, but I don't know why they want the secrets of an inventor's daughter. I still do not understand why he brings them here. The men sleep across the hall from me, but they have never bothered me. Instead ever since I was little they told me stories of distant lands. Those which evil men could not corrupt. Lands with silk of the finest quality, and the most beautiful landscapes to paint. There are things there called beaches. One man around my age with dark black hair and stubble on his face, but that is not what I found strange what I found strange was the bright blue and orange or yellow bandana he wore. He told me the colors but I could not see them. Another man who is staying the moon with us is a man by the name Auditoré. The name seems familiar, but I can not remember why I think so lowly of him. I remember some things about him and there is a sense of " I need to know more ". It seems to be something about my future. It is something I can not help as of now I have no clue how to make things right. For now though I will focus on my paintings and if the time comes where I must learn more about this man. I will learn then. Father is teaching me to fix weapons. I do not understand the significance of this. Either way I will learn one day the significance of this action, for now my apprenticeship is the most important. The morning sun shines on the pages I have written with the words of a girl, a painter. I hope simply that these words reach the one they are made for.
YOU ARE READING
Diary of a Painter
FantasyA diary has just been found in an old Florence building. It holds some startling information of the world no one has discovered. Dating back to the time of Columbus, the diary holds a stiff young graduate at a hard place due to her vow of honesty.
