literature

Heart of the Arist

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Literature Text

"Are you sure you don't want to sell this piece?"
This was at least the 4th time the art instructor had asked Zeek this question within the last
twenty minutes.
" Yes sir." Was his reply.
The art instructor sighed and shook his head. His small squinty eyes made him look twice his
age. He looked tired.
"It's a wonderful painting..." he told Zeek. "Just brilliant...it's...I can't even explain it to you." He
sighed and removed his glasses wiping them off on his jacket and finally putting them back to his
slightly crooked nose.
"The lowest bid was $200 you do realize...The LOWEST bid. You are being offered a LOT of
money for this piece. The : Zeek didn't respond and kept listening watching the teacher hesitate
and try and find more ways to convince Zeek.
ONE out of several you've done in m: "...I don't mean to push you, but please..." The instructor
was well over 60 years old, it was kind of sad how he begged the way he was doing. "This is the
chance of a lifetime...think of art school....your career...I know you want to be an artist."
Zeek smiled a warm smile. "I know, Instructor...But you see...." He turned to look out the nearest
window. The sky grey with clouds and droplets of rain sliding down the glass like children on a
slide, connecting and dividing into one pool of water below them.
"This painting...isn't just a painting..." He put his hand to his chest and looked back at his teacher.
"It means a lot to me." His gray eyes were warm and mystical and yet a little scary at the same
time.
"If it were any other painting I'd consider it...but" Zeek sighed. "I'm going to have to decline the
offer." He said it firmly. The art instructors face fell, filled with disappointment. This was not gonna
be another high ranking for his teaching status.
Although Zeek felt bad, he stayed stern. "I don't need to be an artist to get into art school. And If
I'm meant to be an artist, that's what I'll do..." Zeek patted his instructor on the shoulder gently
while he walked past him. "Art isn't about profit teach, art comes somewhere else."
His footsteps echoed in the hallway as he walked. And right before he was about to turn the
corner he said one last thing: "Maybe all these years of teaching has made you forget about
that...What it TRULLY means....to be an artist."

The rain was cold as Zeek walked. It felt good falling on his hair and on his neck, chilling his
spine. He had forgotten his umbrella but didn't mind.
He watched the people around him, inspired by their busy lives they didn't even seem to notice
they had. Zeek never wanted to rush life. So even though he was cold and wet and although his
teeth were chattering when he reached his apartment with no heat, he was pleased with what
he'd seen.
: If he'd had rushed he would not have seen the little boy counting his penny's about to go in the
candy store and buy some lollipops.
: He would not have noticed the lady's down the streets flowers beginning to grow, nor the
beautiful twist and symbolic movements of the clouds in the sky or the pat-pat-pat of the
raindrops against the pavement and other services while he passed.
Opening the door and shedding his clothing while he walked, Zeek turned on the shower. The
steam rose like thick smoke wrapping it's transparent fingers around Zeek's face, seeming to craft
him and stroke his cheeks like a mother with a feverish baby.
Zeek's skin felt like it was on fire when he first made contact with the warm water. But he insured
it. He raised his chin up and craned his neck to feel the water rush over his features and warm
the chill at the back of his neck.

He remembered the day he had done that painting....

He had FINALLY convinced Freya to model for him.
She had come out of her own free will in the middle of the afternoon. She wore a long flowing
skirt, a tank top and pink sandals with a cute kitten on the buckle.
She had seemed nervous at first, sat very stiffly on the couch while Zeek sketched her.
  They had gotten into warm conversation, and she had smiled. Her eyes and gaze had stayed on
her hands and feet most of the time, but when her ocean blue eyes blinked at Zeek and she
turned her head, her curls falling around her shoulders Zeek felt like he would just die. She was
Beautiful.
Zeek realized as she began to relax and talk freely with me that he didn't need to her to be there
to paint her. Every movement, every expression. The way she smiled the way she showed her
teeth when she was truly excited with something. The way she'd put her fingers through her
hair...He knew it all.
He wanted her. But not even sexually like a beast or a dog.
He wanted something more. He wanted to be able to hold her, reach out to her. Comfort her. He
wanted to rip her open and take out that light she had and keep it safe forever.

She brought a little jar of green tea when she came. They warmed it up on his stove and they
drank it together, sitting across from each other, never side by side. Zeek and Freya had talked
for what felt like hours.
Getting up from the couch Zeek turned on some music and began to dance. Inviting Freya to join
him. Her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink, Freya reached out and let Zeek take her hand,
pulling her up into a beautiful dance that was like magic.
Their bodies entwined in a fire of dancing that involved laced fingers and would make any
audience cry with the passion of it all.
There is no happier moment than this, Zeek told himself, as they embraced. Being physical
doesn't need to mean sex. She wrapped her bony arms around his waist and he gently put his
warm hands over her bony shoulders. 'I want this to last...' he told himself. Zeek loved her.
Her body, her soul. The way she moved, talked, walked, even the way she would sweat when
she danced...he wanted to feed her, hug her---he would take the moon and make a cookie out of
it for her if she wished him too...
This, her and him was bliss. Nothing could be better. It was bitter sweet in a classical kind of
moment.  With in those moments of bliss, Zeek, stroked back her bangs and gently kissed her
forehead. She was a goddess. She warmed into his hug and sighed, her sigh like a whisper in his
ear.
Suddenly she backed away, putting him at arms length. "No," she said suddenly. " no no no, I-I
can't do this." She grabbed her bag and thanked him for the fun time and without even saying
good-bye she ran.

: Zeek could no longer feel his finger tips, his toes, not even his heart which was thumping in his
ears. His lips were burning where he'd kissed her. He sat in silence and watched the empty
apartment fade. His vision seemed to be a blur while he worked. He sat in his room at the same
isle working for hours on end. His free hand quivered and his heart thumped but he continued.
His mind gone, like a blank piece of paper.

By the end of it, he had fallen asleep and woken up beside his work with a bit of paint smudged
on his cheek.
Looking up, he saw her. She stood her arms out stretched, her hair flowing, her almond eyes
gleaming and totally crystal clear. Her smile was bright, the smile only he could see. The person
only he knew she was. Not the physical her, but the her inside. The light shone through her like
stars in the darkest of nights.
Reaching up a shaky finger and touchy the cold canvas Zeke's bottom lip quivered. And he cried.
His tears were burning hot like an iron, his now puffy bloodshot eyes felt raw as his emotions
swept over him. : He curled up into himself, crying like the inner child he was. His fingers crawled
at the stone floor, making his fingers bleed.
He screamed in despite of himself, the tubes of paint around him being the only things witness to
his outburst.
: When the Art show had rolled around that was the first time Zeek had been able to look at the
painting again since that night. And although he had been offered a lot of money and although he
didn't need the painting to be able to see her and although all the painting did was hurt
him....Zeek knew that Freya was not some gem he could just sell. She was priceless. And so was
his and her memories together.
Before I begin, yes, I DO KNOW that the name "Zeke" is spelled incorrectly. Zeek writes his name the way he does for artistic expression. Thank you.

Zeek and Freya are original characters of mine for the comic Lemon Martini.
I wrote this story originally through an IM to a friend of mine as a kind of late night bitter-sweet/romantic "bedtime story". It's been at least 2 years since I've written it. I tried to touch it up a bit but was not in the mood to go out of my way to fix EVERY single issue with it.
Sorry it's corny and sorry for the other mistake.

This is actually a real scene in my story.
It is suppose to come off ( at least drawn out) very mystical and lucid. There aren't too many words for the planned DRAWN out version.

At any right, Lemon Martini <all characters and material >
(c) 2008! DON'T STEAL FROM ME, PLEASE!!!!!!!!!
© 2008 - 2024 Kaiboy-lollipop
Comments6
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Awwwh, Zeek is so sweet! I wish I knew a guy like that IRL X'D