- Joined
- Dec 11, 2012
A soft sigh spilled warm breath over full lips, a cascade of shivering, nervous tension, as a man steadied himself in a large room. Butterflies fluttered and caused his insides to dance in twist in such a way that was both exciting and nauseating. This wasn't his first time here, but it was so difficult to break the anxiousness that flooded his body. Perhaps that is why he came back. Galleries filled with elderly men, thick eyebrows knitted into thoughtful scows barely registered compared to what he was about to do. Yes, despite lacking years of experience and teaching, he was going to be facing his most challenging and toughest critics. Brutally honest was the gentlest way to describe the words that would fill the room soon. It wouldn't take long to find approval of disapproval from his audience, they were quick to speak their minds. Still, he wasn't quite finished putting his finishing touches across the expansive wall.
Bristles curled and splintered as globs of paint smeared across the drywall, leaving marks of skilled precision. Every color. Every mark had purpose. Motion driven from his shoulder and elbow as his talented hands guided the brush along emotive curves and delicate, slow, tedious marks to capture every last detail. The painting made him smile. Happy faces covered the entirety of the wall, laughter and joy expressed in a way that only children can. After having spent several classes with the children of the Jones Daycare, he couldn't help but request to capture their energy and pureness in the large fitness room. Here on this wall, he captured every little girl and boy, their most favorite outfits doing things they always imagined. Princesses, knights, superheroes, detectives, firefighters, only listed a few of the children he had taken weeks to craft into figures pumped full of energy. Yet, as the piece neared completion, the final brush strokes closing in, a strange sadness tickled the back of his mind. He had always imagined. He thought his first mural like this, would be for his own kids. When he bought his home, he had planned a room for his children, now filled with clutter and cobwebs. Unused. At least he got the chance to touch the lives of the children here, spread his talents and knowledge to them. A small victory.
There was no time for contemplating such sad loses to his life. Just outside the door, he can hear the giggling, shouting voices of excited children. It was just about time for their inside gym time, if only they had any idea what their favorite art teacher had done for them. The momentary frown was replaced with a wide grin from the ecstatic children and the hushed "shushing" sounds the caregivers were making to attempt and gently calm the enthusiastic children. He only had moments to remove his apron and clean up his paint supplies out of reach. Stepping to the side of the room, he waited for the door to be opened. A man of average height, 6 feet even, wearing a silver vest over his wine colored button down shirt, light grey slacks traveled along his legs and did their best not to cling to his thick thighs and certain, less appropriate features for this place. A golden chain dangled from his vest button to a pocket along his stomach, a trademark feature the children loved, mostly because they enjoyed listening to the rhythmic ticking of the pocket watch that was hidden in the pocket. A short beard added age to his face, which was good due to his boyish features. Thick lips tried to contain his smile, but nothing could hide the excitement in his piercing blue eyes.
Finally, the door handle began to twist and the slightest crack allowed the children to rush into the room like a river that could not be contained. However, the loud squeals of joy and energy fell into a dull, combined gasp of surprise and wonder as the children looked at the enormous mural. "Well, do you like it?" the man questioned the children before a raucous of responses echoed back from the children, "We love it, Daniel."
Some of the children rushed over to hug Daniel, arms wrapping about his legs and waist, squeezing him as tightly as they could, words meshing together into an incoherent babble if happiness. Other children began to approach the mural to get a closer look, shouting out when they identified the other kids. Realizing the pictures of them, the remaining children raced over to study the enormous work. Daniel, thankful that his pants were still attached after the swarm had sprinted off, some still clinging to the fabric of his clothing approached the caregivers and smiled, "That is the reason I didn't want any money for this project. Nothing holds more value to me, than those happy faces."
Bristles curled and splintered as globs of paint smeared across the drywall, leaving marks of skilled precision. Every color. Every mark had purpose. Motion driven from his shoulder and elbow as his talented hands guided the brush along emotive curves and delicate, slow, tedious marks to capture every last detail. The painting made him smile. Happy faces covered the entirety of the wall, laughter and joy expressed in a way that only children can. After having spent several classes with the children of the Jones Daycare, he couldn't help but request to capture their energy and pureness in the large fitness room. Here on this wall, he captured every little girl and boy, their most favorite outfits doing things they always imagined. Princesses, knights, superheroes, detectives, firefighters, only listed a few of the children he had taken weeks to craft into figures pumped full of energy. Yet, as the piece neared completion, the final brush strokes closing in, a strange sadness tickled the back of his mind. He had always imagined. He thought his first mural like this, would be for his own kids. When he bought his home, he had planned a room for his children, now filled with clutter and cobwebs. Unused. At least he got the chance to touch the lives of the children here, spread his talents and knowledge to them. A small victory.
There was no time for contemplating such sad loses to his life. Just outside the door, he can hear the giggling, shouting voices of excited children. It was just about time for their inside gym time, if only they had any idea what their favorite art teacher had done for them. The momentary frown was replaced with a wide grin from the ecstatic children and the hushed "shushing" sounds the caregivers were making to attempt and gently calm the enthusiastic children. He only had moments to remove his apron and clean up his paint supplies out of reach. Stepping to the side of the room, he waited for the door to be opened. A man of average height, 6 feet even, wearing a silver vest over his wine colored button down shirt, light grey slacks traveled along his legs and did their best not to cling to his thick thighs and certain, less appropriate features for this place. A golden chain dangled from his vest button to a pocket along his stomach, a trademark feature the children loved, mostly because they enjoyed listening to the rhythmic ticking of the pocket watch that was hidden in the pocket. A short beard added age to his face, which was good due to his boyish features. Thick lips tried to contain his smile, but nothing could hide the excitement in his piercing blue eyes.
Finally, the door handle began to twist and the slightest crack allowed the children to rush into the room like a river that could not be contained. However, the loud squeals of joy and energy fell into a dull, combined gasp of surprise and wonder as the children looked at the enormous mural. "Well, do you like it?" the man questioned the children before a raucous of responses echoed back from the children, "We love it, Daniel."
Some of the children rushed over to hug Daniel, arms wrapping about his legs and waist, squeezing him as tightly as they could, words meshing together into an incoherent babble if happiness. Other children began to approach the mural to get a closer look, shouting out when they identified the other kids. Realizing the pictures of them, the remaining children raced over to study the enormous work. Daniel, thankful that his pants were still attached after the swarm had sprinted off, some still clinging to the fabric of his clothing approached the caregivers and smiled, "That is the reason I didn't want any money for this project. Nothing holds more value to me, than those happy faces."