The Art of Love

Posted: May 19, 2010 in Articles, Photos, Q.Whitening Photos, Q.Whitening Short Stories
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This piece is when my eyes really started to open more to writing. My creative side started to develop more. This is one of my favorites.

It was a clear, calm type of day; had a real mellow feel to it. It was one of those days that you would never want to spend in a Laundromat. As I am putting white after white clothing in the washing machine, I quickly took a look to my left. Just in that quick glance, a face stained my eyes like that drip of ketchup from the first bite of my favorite sandwich. This blank canvas walked in, sparking fresh ideas for a new painting for me to work on. I try my best to look at her without looking as something remarkable happened. She actually walks towards the machine next to me and asked, “Are you using this machine?” I smile slightly and reply, “No, it’s all yours.” As she is preparing her clothes to be washed, I am staring even more, trying to get a real feel of how I will design this blank canvas. She is putting her white clothes in the machine when she mistakenly grabs a colored shirt. Just as she notices the wrong piece of clothing in her hand, I break the ice by saying “I think you better drop that shirt now, unless pink is your favorite color?” It creates a moment of laughter long enough for me to stand in front of this canvas as she smiles. My introduction ignites an hour long conversation of interest. With each sentence that is said, asked, and answered I slowly sketch an idea of what I think this particular piece of art will look like. The conversation draws to a close and I have a rough sketch of what can be developed into a masterpiece. I ask her for more time so I can add detail to the painting, with these words ‘Will this be the last time I get a good conversation from you?’ She looks into my eyes and takes my phone to plug in the numbers that can link me to her. With each passing day, conversation after conversation, dinner after dinner my canvas gets more defined. I start to see myself engulfed into this piece. Every other piece that I was working on is sent straight to the back of the closet, if not trashed. For some reason this one piece slowly started to cling to me, as if the canvas was painting me. Before I could even blink, eight months have passed and the work I was putting into this painting created a new drive of zeal. Two more months pass with cinematic colors adding greater complexity to the piece. The passion that I began with slowed down as my eyes for the painting slowly change. The arguments that we had made me feel like I had artist block. Some days I would stare at my painting, without a single brush or stroke, and wonder if it was even worth the time I had put into it. The days that I filled her with sadness or disappointment, I would run to the store to get new colors. I would try to show her how delicate I can be with brand new colors that I hoped would bring a new brightness to her canvas. Sometimes I would look at my old projects, but they never matched up to the unfinished one I had attached myself to. One day, after two years of painting, I walked up to my piece. I gazed at it as if I was Moses on top of the mountain having his first conversation with God. I had come to discover that it was finally finished. The masterpiece I put so much of my soul into is exactly what I dreamed of. This blank canvas sparked a new found devotion which has brought me to a true understanding of what it is to be an artist of LOVE.

Photo By: Q.Whitening
Written By: Q.Whitening
Posted By: Q.Whitening


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