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i gotta be my own boss no matter what the cost
The smooth texture of it made her cock her head to the side in curiosity. The different tubes were set before her crossed legs, sitting neatly in the grass. There were just a few, the ones that reminded her of the colors she thought of most often. Yellow for the sun, who seemed to be her best friend of late, and maybe always. She placed it first, liking the bright hue so much that she had taken the best looking container of it. White for her mother Naniko, the pure snow of her coat. Blue for the eyes of her second mother, Anu. The hue was deep and heavy, just like the pools that she wore. The last was red, separated from the rest but her fingers lingered on it for a moment. Who red was to her? A heart was colored with such a saturated and pure hue, but it was still uncertain who fit such a role.
All the things had been stolen from some place in Halifax. The word was written everywhere, and she figured it was the most fitting thing to call the city. Still uncomfortable with being inside the cold concrete world, Mati had gathered the things that she thought she wanted and ran to a place of safety. The clearing was surrounded by a few tall aged trees, and reminded her more of home then of where all the articles had come from. She propped the canvas against the nearest tree, and settled to look at what she was sure where paints. The caps were sealed tightly, and her fingers too weak to open them. Trying again and again Mati resorted to placing the yellow paint tube to her mouth, attempting to pry the color from its tube with her teeth.
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Honoré was a sophisticated man. He considered himself to be a very important being; far too important to lead a primitive lifestyle like most canines. He did not hunt prey nor sleep outside like the average wolf. Instead of doing all of those things, the five-year-old often opted for simpler alternatives. He slept in a bed dotted with a therapeutic mattress, something he’d found in the city. Catching meals also required too much effort; hence why he did not hunt. The Québécois actually preferred canned goods from abandoned grocery stores. Needless to say, he considered Halifax to be a sacred place.
The Tenens was on his way back from the food store; he’d found a few cans of tuna and some beef jerky. Not the tastiest stuff out there but it would keep hunger at bay for a day or two. The trek from Halifax to Phoenix Valley did not take very long. He was about halfway there when he stumbled upon a young girl, a pretty little thing with stunning blue eyes and… a tube in her mouth. It was only when he glanced down at the other tubes that he finally understood what was in there. Paint. "Eille! Don’t do that,” he warned, eyes of metallic bronze widening exaggeratedly. "You don’t…no, eating paint is no good! Spit out! Go-go!”
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i gotta be my own boss no matter what the cost
It wouldn’t budge, and Mati had to sink her white teeth into the white cap and then twist with two paws attached to the tube. Still it only moved a little, and just as she was about to give it the final turn something filled her ears and soon her vision. Lavender eyes looked upward, the tube still locked onto her tooth. His words were frantic and Mati clawed the paint tube from her mouth and fumbled it in her hands until she was holding tightly to it.
Well, no. I mean I know that Mati spoke as she let the thing go and put her two paws up in a non-guilty fashion. The Crimson Dreams female was sure that it wasn’t for consumption, and had only hoped to open it and see the true hue. I just couldn’t open it, I only wanted to see what was inside. Unsure what else might settle that male back down to normal Mati explained as best as she could.
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Honoré had a terrible habit of overreacting. He was a dramatist. And obviously, getting a reaction out of people was his life’s mission. It was a very effective way to get noticed, and he craved every little bit of attention he could get. His personality alone would often make people stop and stare, but not for the right reasons. The Québécois realized this. However, controlling his outbursts wasn’t an easy thing to do.
His mouth clamped shut as the young girl struggled to free herself from the paint tube. It seemed the adolescent was a little surprised to see him, and she had every right to be. Honoré didn’t know how to rectify the situation, so he watched with concealed amusement as the lavender-eyed femme tried to justify her actions.
“Oh,” he said, now understanding why the tube had been in her mouth. The five-year-old lowered himself to the floor and reached out to grab the container she hadn’t been able to open. He gave the chewed-up cap a good twist and handed it over. “There,” A bright yellow hue threatened to leak out of its confinement. It was a pretty color indeed. It reminded him of chickadees. “Gentle, don’t squeeze a lot. Okay?” he explained, making obvious efforts to keep his voice low and steady.
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i gotta be my own boss no matter what the cost
Mati whiling handed it over, no longer really wanting it if he was going to be so upset about it. Her urge to learn to paint and begin using the supplies was strong but the young female didn't want to upset anyone in her pursuit. As she watched him twist the top off she felt a soft pang of embarrassment, having not been able to open it herself. Maybe she had loosened it up for him, but at any rate he handing it back over when he was done. With wide eyes she looked at the paint that retreated slightly out of the tube, her clumsy hand reached slowly for it and gently held it.
Its Cadmium Yellow. She explained to him if in case he hadn't read the faded label. It was bright, vivid and the color of the sun but only on the clearest of days. She wasn't sure if it was even more beautiful the the sun itself. Heeding his warning she only touched the tube with a soft pressure, but even as hard as she tried to restrain the strength her hand held. The paint threatened to spill over the side, making the girl panic just as he had moments before. Oh no, where, what. Here. The brown wolfess wanted to hand him the tube again, hoping that he would know what to do with it.
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Cadmium yellow. Honoré nodded slowly, although he didn’t quite understand what cadmium was. Was it some kind of food? He was perplexed; torn between asking for a definition and pretending to know what it was. She was much younger than he was, and she already knew fancy words like “cadmium”. One word was all it took to wound his ego. The Tenens kept quiet, refusing to make any comment pertaining to the word she’d just said. That way, he looked smarter.
His attention promptly returned to the tube in her hand, and the bright colored paint that threatened to ooze out. He too, became nervous after a few seconds. Hazel-hued eyes glanced down at his green-colored palms. Honoré knew from experience what happened when paint came in contact with fur; he’d found out the hard way. His mossy-looking hands were proof enough.
They were passing the paint tube around like a hot potato. Now it was in Honoré’s possession again. He didn’t mind, really. A little yellow to go compliment his green tainted pelt wouldn’t hurt; and it would fade with time. “Don’t know how to paint?” he asked, lowering his backpack to the floor and setting the tube down temporarily. He always carried some paintbrushes with him. Maybe she needed some. Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out soft-grip angle paintbrush and offered it to her. “It’s good paintbrush. You can use if you want. I’m cool teacher.”
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i gotta be my own boss no matter what the cost
Mati relaxed she gave him the paint tube, the accident waiting to happen no longer in her hands. But as much as she no longer wanted the momentary responsibility, she couldn’t take her eyes off the male who held it. Shaking her head at his question Mati spoke softly, No, I just found this stuff. Pointing as she spoke Mati motioned to the pile of things that she had ransacked from the art supply store in the city. Purple eyes looked to his face, full of question. She could? Cautious fingers took the brush he held out to her and she looked back to his face, You would teach me? Mati had never thought she would be so lucky to find someone that could show her how to use all the supplies.
She suddenly grew excited, and a smile formed over her mouth. Looking at the dyed paws that had held the paint brush she grew curious. What do you paint? It was her biggest dilemma. She figured that in time she would learn to use the paints and brushes, but the idea of choosing a subject was far to enormous for the young girl to wrap her brain around.
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Her clumsiness made a bit more sense now that she’d provided an answer to his question. So she didn’t know how to paint. He smiled then, remembering how much fun he’d had teaching Asariel. He was willing to repeat the process, this time with the lavender-eyed cutie. While he had no specific knowledge of true art, Honoré was good with a paintbrush. It was something he’d taught himself on his spare time, with the use of a few human books. He very rarely worked on canvas, preferring less... conventional surfaces. Birdhouses were a good example. "Me paint houses for birds alot." Shading and texturing were his forte, but he knew enough to teach her the basics if she truly wanted to learn.
“Ok first, I am Honoré.” he said, pointing to himself. “And you?” His student’s name would be a way to start today’s session. Hazel-colored eyes moved to the pile of art supplies. Basic knowledge on how to use paintbrushes was a good start and from what he could see, she’d gathered a few from the city. He picked three of them up; all of them had different shapes and purposes. The first one was a fan brush with silky short bristles. He held it up for a moment, indicating its function. “This is fan brush. It is for blending colors, yah?” The second one was a flat brush, designed for broader strokes. And the third one was a round paintbrush, the kind most artists used. Honoré explained all of their particularities in very simple terms, stopping at the end to make sure the girl understood. “Understand?”
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i gotta be my own boss no matter what the cost
She couldn’t help but smile. All the paintings that she had found in the manor, all the books she had read and looked at that spoke of the master in the human’s time had sparked a serious interest in the girl. And now she had a teacher. One that pained birdhouses even, which she figured was a step up from the flat surface of a canvas. Mati liked the idea, as was instantly curious to see a finished one.
He spoke his name and asked for hers, I’m Mati Church.. She spoke with the same smile. Honore was an interesting fellow, and by the looks of him and the pictures that she had found in art history books Mati determined that he looked like an artist. They dove into the lesson, quickly, as he explained the different types of brushes while she listened closely. Purple eyes looked at the think fine bristles of the brushes, picturing the different strokes that they would make with her Cadmium Yellow. She took each in her hand when he was done explaining, running her finger gently over the brush. His question made her nod and give a small, Yes. She wanted him to know that she was a quick and eager learner, but of course every student had questions. Holding the fan brush in her paw, How do you blend colors?
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Honoré rarely warmed up to people and in all honesty, he really didn’t like kids. But the lavender-eyed angel gave him no choice. She had a wonderful personality; it was impossible not to find her adorable! Mati Church was her name, and the Québécois was lucky enough to have her as his new pupil. Her interest in art was genuine, and her desire to learn new things pleased him. Ambitions weren’t everything though; innate talent made things much easier. And they were about to find out whether she’d been blessed with an artistic soul or not. Honoré assumed she was. The way she studied the different hues told him so.
When she nodded her comprehension and countered with a very pertinent question, the five-year-old male could only smile. What a smart cookie she was. He had wanted to teach her most of the basics before giving a demonstration, but that idea was quickly dropped. “Ok I show,” he said, taking the brush from her and moving over to the blank canvas. Turning to meet her gaze, he elaborated a little more before allowing her to practice. “We can try paint wheat field, maybe? So can use your Cadmium yellow, yes? Fan brush is good detailed stuffs too. Like grass, or wheat.”
That being said, Honoré applied some yellow to the canvas, stippling the bright hue with short yet precise strokes. The paintbrush was set aside for a moment, just so he could reach for the palette in his satchel. “This, Mati, is a palette. You mix colors on it. We not have many colors but we can make some, so the field be more realistic. With more than one color, you know?” he said, mixing some red and yellow together. The result was a beige-cantaloupe color. “You go like this, very light strokes here and there.” he said, demonstrating on a very small portion of the wheat field. He turned then, handing both the palette and the paintbrush over. “Your turn.”
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The girl didn’t know much about anything, but she soaked the experience up like a sponge. She wanted to know everything, and hoped that he would be whiling to share all his knowledge with her. Each word that was spoken, each motion he made with his hand she listened and watched ready to repeat and mimic them. She grew excited as he moved to show her first hand the technique.
He moved his had as if he held a feather, lightly dusting the paint against the rough canvas. His write motioned the yellow to move in the direction of its choosing, the wheat that he drove to create born by no action of nature but by the soft action of his hand. Her eyes didn’t leave the canvas, not until he moved away and placed the supplies in her hands. She was suddenly nervous, brush and palette in hand. The canvas sat before her and waited for her to try and meet the challenge its partly started face gave her.
Thinking back to his lesson Mati laid the brush lightly against the material, feeling the texture beneath the soft brush. It was like heaven, and the girl smiled at the relaxing motion. But she still needed to understand where and when to apply a different color. And as soon as she realized the problem, the solid blanket of dull yellow covering most of the canvas, she paused and looked back to him. More red?
table by Syd
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Mati’s insecurities were understandable; at least she'd had the common sense to ask questions before launching herself into the task at hand. His reply was a silent one; a smile was all he granted her before taking her hand into his. “Learn to trust yourself, yah?” he advised, guiding her hand through the blending process. He picked out the quantities of red and yellow needed to create that sandy-beige color, and then he brought her hand closer to the canvas. They applied the color together, Honoré acting as the main pilot for the first minute or so.
He made sure to demonstrate the proper technique, how to flick the paintbrush back and forth in order to achieve the desired effect. Then he gradually loosened his grip on her little hand, removing his once she’d gained enough confidence to act on her own. The Québécois watched quietly for a few moments, evaluating her work and occasionally rectifying certain flaws. “Maybe you can come visit me to learn more sometimes?" he questioned, with a slight wag of his tail. Honoré sincerely hoped she’d accept his offer; he often got lonely when his little niece wasn’t around to keep him company.
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[html] http://i197.photobucket.com/albums/aa22 ... itable.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> no worries, and thanks for being wiling to wrap this thread up. they should definitely paint again...!!
Mati could not tame to smile on her light earthen toned face. For a female that held so little dimension in her own coat she found the different hues fascinating and intriguing. She spent long moments looking at things and finding the colors that were hidden among the obvious. Nothing was just purely white, they held tones of red, pink and even small amounts of purple and blue. Black was not the absence of color, unlike what many thought black was deep blue and purple, and even if one looked hard enough yellow and red could be seen as well.
His gentle hand took hold of hers, and Mati allowed him to guild the brush along the textured canvas. Her eyes watched and her hand tried to remember the motions. She wanted to be good at this, to know and learn until it was as natural for her as it seemed for him. He moved with ease and experience, and if she wasn’t so enthralled with the different colors that developed as he painted Mati could have closed her eyes and just feel the brush fall sweetly against the canvas. The paint allowed to create what ever it wished.
He let her work for a few moments alone, sitting beside in silence. Breaking it only to show her where she had put too much paint in a certain place, or if she needed more yellow or a small amount of blue to shade it. It wasn’t criticism, for the words were not hard or angry, but soft and held a teachers tone. Firm, yet understanding. It wasn’t until he questioned her that she took her violet eyes from the canvas.
“I’d love that.” the girl spoke with a hushed excitement. She wondered what supplies he had there, and what other techniques he could show her. Pledging to practice and have something to show him when she sought him out next time.
table by Syd
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