Still

A Picture

"In spite of everything, I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing." -Vincent Van Gogh

With the wet brush in hand, he dabbed it onto the color pallet. He had a good twenty colors ranging from red to white, in the most basic color choices possible. This paper was too small for his liking, but it would have to do.

Yellow would be a good start. Maybe he could mix it on the side with a little bit of white to make it even lighter. He tried out his idea, creating a soft yellow that he could work with. Yes, that would definitely do. But now should he start in the middle of the paper, or maybe just off center to the right?

He closed his eyes, and imagined the final picture in his head. It was going to be a landscape, just like the rest of his paintings, but he wanted more color. He was sick of blue skies and green land. This had to be a big project, since it was his landscapes that allowed him to skip Top Peak's introductory class, after all. The teacher was expecting something big of him.

He wanted the sun to be in the center of the drawing as it began to rise from the mountains. His brush went from his paint to the paper, and he created long, soft brushes onto the blank slate. He could tell that the paper wanted to crinkle underneath, but he had already taped the corners of it to the desk, forcing it to stay intact.

A small yellow sun sat in the middle of his drawing. Then came in darker yellow and oranges. They blended together, just as he had predicted, which really was satisfying for him to see.

Was it possible to add in pink? He would love it if he could, since it was his favorite color, after all. The one on his pallet was especially pretty, with how light it was. It could almost pass off as a pastel if it wanted to. He was thinking about shifting the orange to red, but he began to wonder if pink was a better option.

Pink was the perfect color for his imaginary sunset. The sky continued on with wispy white colors near the horizon. The top half of the painting was done in ten minutes tops, although he swore it felt longer. The easy part had been done, and now he just had to add in that second layer.

The idea came to him while reading in Physics, when he should have been paying attention to the teacher. He didn't like to read, but there was something different about that book he got. Maybe it was because his dad had pulled it out of the basement just recently with some pages barely intact, or it maybe had been because he had never read anything like it before.

If there was a plot, he hadn't found it, even though he was already three quarters in. Most people would say that would make the book bad, but it was why he kept going back for it. There was something about not knowing what would happen next that he loved. The heroes were mean, and the villain was kind. Dwarves were giant, and chaotic creatures like fairies were shy and scholarly.

Maybe he loved it for the same reason he only painted backgrounds. He was able to shape worlds with his hands and change them in anyway he pleased, so long as the paint was still wet. There never had to be war or hate in his world if he didn't want it to. The industry was never heavy, and there were fields and trees galore. Even New York could see stars in their night sky if he wanted them to.

"It looks lovely," Miss Cray told him as she stopped by his desk. "Although I don't understand how it fits with our topic."

Right, the topic of the week. He had momentarily forgotten that there had to be a topic, and he quickly looked up at the board to see what he was supposed to be doing. Miss Cray's loopy handwriting spelled out the word 'Mystery' for everyone to work with. Often times people would sketch something out and call it done so they could work on other projects, but he didn't even bother doing that.

"It's not supposed to," he found himself telling Miss Cray. "Plus, I haven't finished it yet."

Miss Cray raised an eyebrow, probably thinking he had more to say. "Oh really?" she asked. "What is it, then, if it's not the one assignment I ever ask for in class?"

He grabbed his bag from the floor, and fished out the other half of the art piece. This half had been done the day before, but it was made for this project. It pictured heavy forestry with mushrooms, cobblestone paths, and everything else a magical forest should have. He just needed to cut out mini characters, and put the parts together. The forestry would go onto the bottom half of the sunset he created on the larger sheet of paper, and the figures would walk on the cobblestone path.

Miss Cray nodded as he explained all of this to her. At the end, he added: "The travelers don't know where they're going, so in a way, I guess it does fit with the theme. It adds to the mystery."

"I'm assuming this will be on my desk when it's done?" Miss Cray asked, already moving on to the desk in front of him.

"Yep."

The teacher left him alone again, which gave him time to work on the piece. The watercolor was having to dry on the base paper, meaning he would be an idiot to try and paste the forest onto it at the moment. He still had the adventurers to create still, but he already knew what he wanted to do with them. They were characters not unlike the ones in his book, but tweaked to how he saw them. 

His soldier had been a tired but kind man, just like the character in his story. The soldier often rode by horseback, but he had met someone much weaker than himself who needed the extra support more than he did. She was just as funny as she was beautiful, but nymphs were not meant to go long distances, so she rode on the sturdy horse with her slender green feet swooped to one side. 

He had to make the characters small, so he replaced his usual art pencil for a mechanical one with thinner lead. For them to look realistic in the drawing, they were not allowed to be taller than an inch or so, or else they would be taller than the trees themselves. They were travelling north to south with the sun rising in the background. The soldier was the first to be drawn, with a slim figure and armor only on his chest and thighs, and brown hair sprouted out his hat like a weed. The nymph sat on the side of a poorly drawn horse, while her curly green hair blew away from her face.

Inking the drawings-- tracing them with a thin little marker-- had been hard, but adding color was harder. He outlined the nymph's pale feet with green, and added a few yellow freckles here and there on her legs. The soldier was an array of grays and blacks until it came to his shirt beneath the armor, which he wanted to be a deep burgundy. He had given up on drawing their facial features, which left them as tiny, faceless people. 

When he finished with the little people, the water colors had been dry enough to touch. He cut out the earthy floor with the trees and pathways, gluing them onto the blank underbelly of the colorful sky. He had to ask Miss Cray for an X-acto knife to cut out his tiny soldier and nymph. Both characters only got a dab of white glue on their backsides before they were placed onto the cobblestone path leading to the forest. 

"I'm impressed," Miss Cray told him as she watched the art piece come together. "This has to be your best picture yet."

"You really think so?" he asked, staring at his work. 

"Of course," she promised, nodding her head sharply. "Does it have a name?"

The whole thing had finally dried, so he flipped it over onto the blank side. Harry grabbed the pencil that had rolled onto the floor, and scribbled on a title for Miss Cray, as well as a messy signature. Every art student knew that a piece was never finished until it had been given some sort of name, and this one was now called: The Soldier and Marian Mells.

"It does now."