Post by INDIA on Mar 13, 2010 18:43:36 GMT
India looked at the supplies laid out before her. She didn't know what she wanted to do with them yet. She wasn't an artist...but she could be. With the right tweaks and twists though, she could be. The thought made he smile. She wondered if they would ever let her keep something like that. Probably not. That wasn't what it was for. Maybe if she worked hard enough, she could be an artist. While she thought about this, there was still nothing in her mind for her to paint.
Out of this complete lack of inspiration, India picked up the nearest brush and painted a thick line down the center of her paper. Green. Light green. It reminded her of the grass outside. Sometimes she missed outside, but she knew that things were changing. Outside wasn't quite the same as she remembered it. The world was getting scary and unsafe. Here she would be safe. India worried about that sometimes. Dolls weren't supposed to worry, but they didn't let her not. She had to keep some of her mind. As she mused on this, she scraped another brush across the paper. Inches away from the green lie now lay a red one.
Red...she wasn't sure if she liked it or hated it. Red was going to lead her mind down some new path. She didn't mind though. Thinking about the things that she didn't ave or couldn't have would get her nowhere. There was no point to it. Red was getting her nowhere. With an eager hand, India added a third line. Purple this time.
India had always liked the color purple. It was pretty. Soft, but strong. India tilted her head to the side, looking for something to inspire a real painting. Nothing. India wanted to make something pretty. Something that would make them proud of her. Her mind was still blank. Annoyed with herself, India reached for the white paint, trying to cover up her previous work. Anybody could paint lines on paper. There was nothing special about it. But the white paint did not completely cover what she had done. She could see the places where it had just smudged the paint, lightened and mixed with the other colors, and in some places the colors with each other. That wasn't what was supposed to have happened. White was supposed to make everything look clean and new again. Like snow.
This was going very wrong. Painting was supposed to be fun, it was supposed to create something better. Something pretty, not a mess. She wasn't a child, she was supposed to be able to do this right. Was there a right way? India wondered it there had been some art lesson she had forgotten along the way. In school they always taught art. Made her paint pictures of flowers and fruit. Had she had the art taken out of her mind? No....no. If the art materials were here they wouldn't take the art away from her. Before maybe, but not now. Not she was allowed to think....to feel. If they hadn't taken the art from her, then could it be she was just not a painter? The idea made India want to be one all the more.
Out of this complete lack of inspiration, India picked up the nearest brush and painted a thick line down the center of her paper. Green. Light green. It reminded her of the grass outside. Sometimes she missed outside, but she knew that things were changing. Outside wasn't quite the same as she remembered it. The world was getting scary and unsafe. Here she would be safe. India worried about that sometimes. Dolls weren't supposed to worry, but they didn't let her not. She had to keep some of her mind. As she mused on this, she scraped another brush across the paper. Inches away from the green lie now lay a red one.
Red...she wasn't sure if she liked it or hated it. Red was going to lead her mind down some new path. She didn't mind though. Thinking about the things that she didn't ave or couldn't have would get her nowhere. There was no point to it. Red was getting her nowhere. With an eager hand, India added a third line. Purple this time.
India had always liked the color purple. It was pretty. Soft, but strong. India tilted her head to the side, looking for something to inspire a real painting. Nothing. India wanted to make something pretty. Something that would make them proud of her. Her mind was still blank. Annoyed with herself, India reached for the white paint, trying to cover up her previous work. Anybody could paint lines on paper. There was nothing special about it. But the white paint did not completely cover what she had done. She could see the places where it had just smudged the paint, lightened and mixed with the other colors, and in some places the colors with each other. That wasn't what was supposed to have happened. White was supposed to make everything look clean and new again. Like snow.
This was going very wrong. Painting was supposed to be fun, it was supposed to create something better. Something pretty, not a mess. She wasn't a child, she was supposed to be able to do this right. Was there a right way? India wondered it there had been some art lesson she had forgotten along the way. In school they always taught art. Made her paint pictures of flowers and fruit. Had she had the art taken out of her mind? No....no. If the art materials were here they wouldn't take the art away from her. Before maybe, but not now. Not she was allowed to think....to feel. If they hadn't taken the art from her, then could it be she was just not a painter? The idea made India want to be one all the more.