Solo [The Art Studio] The Dangers of Desire

[Anouk]

87th Spring, 515AV

"The end of the season is right around the corner," Nabisa was saying as she strolled backwards and forwards across the length of her art studio. Every so often, the Konti would pause to regard the work of one of her students or pay one a comment, "So you should be all be making those final touches to your pieces of work, and thinking about their titles, descriptions, and so on, for when they are submitted for grading."*So, I kinda made an assumption here that the students' artwork is graded (even if just as a pass/fail kind of thing) at the end of the season. If this is completely wrong, please let me know as I'm happy to tweak this

Her students remained silent and focused, each one standing before a canvas and either actively painting or looking incredibly thoughtful. Among them was Anouk, whose canvas was one of the larger ones and so was positioned further back in the studio. The Konti was armed with a tiny paintbrush, and seemed to be fixated on her painting.

"But do remember to take a break and drink, please. I don't want anyone fainting on me."

The reminder broke through Anouk's concentration, and she glanced up to meet her professor's green eyes. Nabisa's gaze was even, but had a clear message: I mean you, Anouk.

Guilty, the younger Konti gave a minute smile and nod of acknowledgement before resting her paintbrush at the bottom of her easel. Having stretched out her back and arms, Anouk padded to the left side of the studio where Nabisa kept a glass jug of water and orange juice.

"How is your progress going?"

The voice was timid but it nevertheless caught Anouk by surprise. She turned to the other student, a small brunette girl who looked far too young to be enrolled at Zeltiva university. "Oh!" She managed to spurt out shortly after swallowing a mouthful of orange juice. "Yes, it's going well thank you. And you?"

The other girl smiled and nodded as well. Her name was -- Rebecca? Rachel? Ruth? Yes, Ruth. "Good, thank you. Yours is the big canvas at the back, right?"

"Correct and yours is--" Anouk scanned the eight other canvases briefly, trying to spot the other unmanned one, but failing to differentiate it amongst the others. Giving the brunette a sheepish glance and smile, she said "--which one, again?"

"The third one in the second row. It's a landscape of Ekytol."

Ah, yes. Anouk could imagine the painting now, though the last time she saw it the canvas had only been half-finished. "I remember now. Are you happy with your work?"

Ruth shrugged her shoulders and gave a half-snarl. When she replied, her voice was dull with disinterest "Meh. I'm not sure. I'm beginning to realise I lack the passion to be a true artist."

Such a philosophy went against every fibre in Anouk's being. The Konti lived for art, breathed it in and exhaled it out. She saw art in every creation, from a bawling child to a discarded chair. Someone has made that, Anouk would think, and given their love and attention in making it.

[Anouk]

Fearful that would she catch Ruth's lack of inspiration, Anouk slunk back to canvas. Fortunately, as she approached her painting, her stained fingertips itched and twitched, eager to pick up her brush and continue painting. It would take more than a season enrolled at Zeltiva University to ever remove the artistic flair from Anouk's psyche.

Her canvas featured five separated images, all based on desires that the Konti had sensed from others in the city. The central image was the most common desire: love and marriage. This was symbolized as a woman's hand extended to show off her gigantic and twinkling engagement ring. Four slightly smaller images surrounded this one: two wrinkled hands embraced together to represent a long life; a faded and faceless shape to embody the desire to find a lost friend; a bloodied knife to signify revenge; and finally, a pile of gold coins and jewels to represent wealth.

But each of these desires had a destructive slant to them. The wrinkled hands, for example, were so old they were decaying. A circle of blood - signifying how the wish for revenge never ended with just one murder or just one vengeful act - surrounded the bloodied knife. But it was the coins and jewels that Anouk was working on presently. After dipping her paintbrush into a small pot of water, she circled the bristles into a pot of dried red paint and then wiped excess drips off the side of her artists' pallet.

With a steady hand, she touched the tip of the paintbrush onto the canvas, dragging a faint red mark down the front of a gold miza coin. She wavered her hand, trying to make her red paint mimic a drop of blood. But her initial paint had been too watery; she'd need to go over her work again to create the thick, dark redness of realistic blood.

"Anouk, how are you faring?" Nabisa appeared beside Anouk's canvas, speaking in quiet Kontinese. She glanced to the painting and gave an appreciative nod, "you've made much progress since we last met."

"Yes, inspiration has struck me once again." The two women shared a knowing smile. Just ten days ago, Anouk had been in the middle of an artistic drought, where her muse had completely disappeared, leaving no trace of encouragement behind.

"I'm glad. I was worried you wouldn't finish your painting completely."

It had been a fear that both the professor and Anouk had felt. The artist had a habit of biting off more than she could chew, according to her mother. And for once, Anouk had had to agree. With her five days of simply lacking the enthusiasm or spirit to paint, she had indeed risked almost missing the deadline for submitting her painting. Fortunately though, Anouk had since felt a burst of inspiration, and had been painting almost non-stop ever since.

[Anouk]

"That fortunately will not be the case," Anouk replied without removing her gaze from her painting. She was still unhappy with the newly added red drop that ran down one of the coins. It looked too pink. With a tired sigh, the Konti added, "Though right now I feel I have no clue what blood looks like."

Nabisa smiled warmly and laid a gentle hand on Anouk's shoulder. "You shouldn't complain that you have little experience with blood. But you know the rule with water colours; build, build, build."

Her professor's comment on the traditional technique of watercolour painting made Anouk smile. She found it all too easy to forget the basic steps and skills to painting, instead getting too obsessed with the actual creation of an art piece. "Yes. I know." She murmured quietly, taking up her paintbrush again and dipping it into her water pot. This time, she mixed a higher paint colour ratio to water. And indeed, when she painted this new, deeper colour over her previous red streaks, it did look more like blood. But the red streak still looked flat; shading and lighting would be needed until Anouk was truly happy with her progress.

But for now, she needed to add blood to more coins and jewels. Onto one particularly impressive sapphire, she trailed a thin line of blood that pooled onto the invisible surface the coins and jewels lay on. Her hand was steady, and after five chimes she had to stop painting in order to massage out cramp.

Anouk regarded her progress so far. Twelve of the fifty or so coins were now stained with blood, and three of the five jewels as well. The effect was daunting and a little gross - just as the artist had hoped.

"Still flat, though." She muttered grumpily. The work was slow, but nevertheless hugely rewarding. For Anouk, there was no experience greater than putting paintbrush to canvas and creating an image. In one moment, there was nothing. But in the next, there was art - something that was created out of thin air and using images and inspiration that was drawn from within another being.

Art couldn't heal wounds, she had to admit. But it gave life meaning, added another dimension to the experience of living. She, for one, could not live without it.

[Anouk]

Before moving on to adding shading or lighting to her new bloodstains, Anouk needed to clean her paintbrush. She swirled the bristles around in water and wiped it across a rag of cotton beside the pot of water. No - her paintbrush still stained the cotton slightly pink. She repeated the actions: swirl, wipe, investigate. It took four repetitions until the Konti was happy that her paintbrush was clean enough so as not to smear red.

And now, she moved onto shading. For this, Anouk mixed grey paint with black and thinned it with water. She drew a faint line down the left hand side of the pile of coins, following the curves and gaps carefully. The jewels were trickier, with their many edges and sharp corners. But slowly, slowly, she added shadows to each coin and precious stone.

And yet she was not pleased; the line of shadow seemed too blunt, too sharp. She'd need to work on fading the shadows out and away from each coin and stone. After rinsing her brush, Anouk tried again. This time, she mixed more grey and more water to create a thinner, paler colour. By swiping her brush backwards and forwards whilst moving it away from the pile coins, she managed to create the illusion that the shadows stretched away from each coin and jewel.

With another dip of her paintbrush into the water, she repeated this movement again to fade the greyness out even more.

When Anouk stepped away, she had to admit the effect of her shading was fairly realistic. After all, the very nature of desires meant they were unbound to the constraints of reality. Wishes and desires did not have to fit with the rules of real life; it only made sense that a painting representing them did the same. And the use of watercolours had allowed this; the colours blended in together, so the boundary between one object and the other was unclear.

Like a dream, Anouk thought with a faint smile.

For the first time that day, she regarded the other canvases that stood in the studio. Her classmates were a talented bunch, and immediately Anouk felt intimidated by the paintings that surrounded hers. The man to her left had painted with oils and his portrait of an elderly woman was so life-like Anouk almost expected his model to wink or smile at her. The Eypharian in front of her had managed to paint with four different colours at once, meaning that her field of flowers exploded with colour and different textures. Even Ruth, despite her lack of passion, had managed to create an incredibly beautiful painting of the golden Ekytol desert.

Jealousy helped nobody.

The voice in Anouk's mind sounded exactly like her mother. And Niva Pavarti was correct; as much as her third born daughter wished to absorb all the talent around her, it was futile to hope. The only thing Anouk could do was continue to improve her own skill and talent.

With a heady sigh, Anouk returned to her painting.

[Pulren Marsh]

A Grade is Coming
Your Wave

I enjoy reading your threads. I feel like I learn about painting myself!

 

Anouk

XP

• Observation 3
• Painting 4
• Massage 1

Lores

• Watercolors: Build, Build, Build.
• Painting: Shading and Lighting Creates Volume
• Painting: Little Details Make the Big Picture
• Painting: Meticulous Brush Cleaning Prevents Smearing

If you need any clarification, please PM me.
Enjoy!


Pulren Marsh