JEN
University isn’t always bad, but when it is, it’s a pile of shit. That pile of shit would be the four assignments I have due in. I guess that’s what I guess for putting the “pro” in “procrastinator.”
Emotion – it’s a funny thing to put down onto paper. Sure, I could grab a pencil and start sketching an image of a girl in an old run down house with her head in her hands, her body curled up, and it would be clear – sadness, devastation.
Or I could grab my pastels and smooth out an image of children playing in a park, laughing and joking. Again, it’s clear.
But art is the more than the obvious. It’s a combination of the obvious and the discreet, all mixed in together in a breath-taking pattern. It’s not what you draw, it’s how you draw it. It’s in the stroke of the brush, the hardness of the pencil, the smudge of the pastel. It’s in the shade of the colour, the frequency of its use, and the blend of several together.
Art is the true reflection of everything inside of us, put out there for the world to see.
I run my fingers along the pastel box, to my paint box, and back again to the pastels. I pick one out at random, not caring to look. Whatever I pick… That is how I feel.
The warm pink tone is soft across the canvas, and the red that follows it is anything but. It’s hot, bright, and tears straight through the pinker sections. The white smudges in the areas where the two colours cross, blending them together seamlessly. The pattern repeats itself, over and over, and I watch it happen without really seeing it.
I put the pastels down and step back from the now coloured canvas, eyeing it critically. The curved lines are gentle, all coming together in a point like the eye of a storm in the corner of the image. I could have very well been sitting on top of a tornado as I drew this – it has the same shape, the same smooth lines. And I know exactly what it means.
It’s the journey of falling in love. The left side, the gentle side, is the first feelings, and as your eyes travel across the canvas, the colours strengthen, becoming more concentrated. The right side, the eye of the storm – that is love. The red is the passion, the pink your heart, and the white the calm it brings you, all mixing together.
I stroke my thumb down the side of the canvas, my eyes gliding over the image for the thousandth time. It’s not just the journey of falling in love.
It’s my journey.
This image is the journey of how I fell in love with Samuel Edwards.
~
Big blue eyes, chubby cheeks and a rosebud mouth surrounded by blonde curls stare at me on the laptop screen.
“An Jen!” Daisy screeches. “An Jen!”
“Hey, Daisy Duck!” I grin at her over Skype. “Are you being good for Mummy?” She bobs her little head, nodding.
“Mama mama mama mama,” she babbles, clapping her hands. Hannah smiles next to her, kissing her cheek.
“Daisy, go and find Daddy. He has a pie cakey for you,” she says and puts her down.
“Bye bye bye bye,” Daisy shouts, toddling off in the direction of her kitchen. I smile as I watch her go, dragging her blanket behind her, and almost falling over her own feet.
“She’s daft,” I say to my sister.
“She learnt that from you,” she says dryly. “Some of her words right now are kinda… suspect.”
“Sis, she’s almost one, and I’m sure she means fork when she says fuck.” I laugh.
“Oh, she does, but when you’re in public and she starts yelling for one…” She shakes her head, a smile touching her lips. “Anyway, how are you? How’s uni?”
“Same old. Starting to pick up on work because the exams are coming up… But hey. Other than that I’m good.”
“And Samuel?” she smirks.
“You heard about that, huh?”
“Jen, it was always gonna happen. When you first met him, you talked for two weeks afterwards about “the big mean boy” whose head you chucked a lobster at,” she says with a raise of her eyebrows.
“I did not!” I protest.
“You did too! I was sick of hearing about him after two days. I think you fell in love with him then.” She winks. “You and Carl were never gonna be forever. I knew that the second Sam strolled back into the Bay.”
“How do you know this stuff?”
“I’m a genius, Jen, you should know this by now.” We both laugh. “Point is…” Hannah looks around, making sure Lloyd isn’t around. “…Samuel Edwards is one hot little somethin’ somethin’, and if you didn’t bag him and I wasn’t married, I would certainly not turn him down, you get what I’m sayin, Jen?”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Hannah, believe me, there is nothing small about Samuel Edwards.”
She grins like a teenager, clapping her hands together. “That’s it. Daisy and I are coming up this weekend. Lloyd can cope without us for three or four days. I need to hear everything!”
“Why do I get the feeling this will be exactly like when I first had sex?” I ask dryly.
“Because it will be. Only worse.” Hannah winks, and I can Daisy calling her in the background. “I gotta go. The sprog is yelling, and if the little one is yelling, the big one will be too. I’ll sort out this weekend and give you a ring. Love you.”
“Love you, too! Give Daisy a big kiss, and Lloyd… Well, tell him hi.” I laugh, and Hannah blows a kiss before the screen goes blank. I shake my head. It’s amazing how much our relationship has improved since I moved away. Now, instead of dreading weekends with her, I look forward to them.
And I can’t wait for this one.
~