92

May 25

Ah Spring time. When the flowers are in bloom and the weather starts to warm up. I love spring because it’s very close to summer without the scorching hot weather of 100 F and above. It’s funny how in TV and movies Spring is usually associated with love. I think it’s a load of baloney.  Like there’s just some sort of hormone in the air causing people’s brains to produce a massive amount of oxytocin. For me spring is a beautiful time to observe and to gain inspiration from nature to create art. I love to sketch pictures of flowers or paint something using color pallets inspired by plants, animals, or even the sky.  I remember when my inspiration got me into an …interesting situation.  I remember that day very clearly….

May 14

I was woken that day by a radio talk show host talking about how most murders were committed at a certain temperature I think it was 91 or 92. “What a load of bullshit.” I thought. I then changed the radio station. I woke up and went thru the usual routine with the radio on. As I got dressed I heard the radio say “And here are the highs and lows of the day today the highs for Phoenix are 92 and the lows are 63”  “92 eh seems a like a good day for inspiration.” I thought. It was strange 92 was a little higher than spring weather but then again it was mid spring so the closer we got to summer the hotter it was bound to get. Nevertheless it was still a nice day to gather inspiration.

…

I went to the park with my sketch pad and pencil. I found a perfect spot under a tree where there was hardly and people, there was a man on a bench nearby reading but I didn’t mind him. I heard the birds singing and I saw little kids playing happily on the playground. I observed the innocent, pure looks on their faces and tried to draw them. When little kids played it made me long for the days when I was a child. It was a time without pain, suffering, or tears, well there were a few tears but that was for physical pain like scarping your knee not from heart break or any other horrible event.  I smiled and then looked away. I decided in that moment to just enjoy the moment and just let my thoughts pass by just like clouds. I felt relaxed. I closed my eyes and just thought of all the good things in the world like people smiling, children laughing, and pie fresh out of the oven, my mom’s lasagna, fresh flowers, birds singing, and so much more. I stayed like this for about 5 to 10 minutes. I then open my eyes and when I looked down at my sketchpad I found a note folded in front of me. It said “I noticed you like drawing a lot please send me one of your drawings at this address. 123 Sesamo Pl. 85004 Phoenix Arizona.” I thought it was very strange so I turned around and there was the old man still reading. I thought it was very strange “It’s only a drawing. What harm can it do?” So I went home and drew a picture of kids playing in a playground where birds were flying and the flowers were in bloom. It was so full of nostalgia that I did not want to send it. So I decided to send the owner one of my old drawings that was colored of a bunch of flowers with the sun shining. It used to be one of my favorites since I had spent so much time on it, carefully paying attention it from the drawing the flowers correct to coloring it in and shading it, but now my newest drawing became my favorite. I carefully folded it and put it in an envelope I did not write anything on the back of the drawing just the drawing itself and wrote my address just in case . I wrote the address and wondered if I should put the letter inside the person’s mail box myself which was a block away or just to drop it off at the post office myself.

I ended up deciding to drop off the letter myself since after all it was Monday and the post office was full on Mondays and I did not feel like dealing with that amount of people that day or anyday. As I walked it got hotter and I started to sweat. It was beginning to warm up but it wasn’t 92 degrees. It felt like 80 something degrees. I then arrived at this person’s house. It seemed pretty sad no one was in it and it looked very old and run down. I silently put the letter in this person’s mail box and walked away. I then walked away carefully making sure I didn’t seem suspicious.

As I walked back home it got incredibly hot. I’m pretty sure it was 92 by then. I felt like taking off my shirt but didn’t since after all I was a girl and society didn’t see that as socially acceptable. I kept on walking and felt sweat run down my back and I felt my blood boil. I don’t know why at that moment I was enraged. I then got home and started to paint my feelings. I used a bunch of reds, orange, yellows and black. After that I ate dinner and went to sleep.

May 15

I awoke feeling confused. I woke up to a song by Type O Negative “I don’t wanna be I don’t wanna be me I don’t wanna be me anymore” and then followed the guitar. Ahh Type O Negative I hadn’t heard them since high school. Listening to them made me feel both nostalgic and pumped. I then got up and went thru my usual routine and after breakfast I went to the garage to look at what I painted. It was different then what I usually painted. It was the scorching hot sun causing someone to set on fire. It was different, shocking yet there was something that made it special. That’s the thing I liked about creating art, art isn’t supposed to be beautiful it’s there to make you feel something. I then took the painting and posted it up over my bed.

…

When I exited the house to go to the park I noticed I had mail. I checked and it was a letter. I opened it wondering if it was the anonymous person who I sent the drawing to.

Hey There. I received your drawing yesterday and I wanted to thank you. It was beautiful. You don’t know how thankful I am that I saw your drawing. When I opened the letter I was really angry at my wife I don’t know why but I actually felt like killing her in that moment. I went outside and checked my mail as soon as I saw your drawing all my feelings went away and it may seem cliché but your letter made me realize how much I love life and how foolish I would’ve been to kill my love of my life. I really wanted to repay you so I sent you a check for $300 dollars.  Actually I want to make a deal with you. You see I love art. And I like to help aspiring artists like you. So what my deal is I send you $400 every two weeks so I can get more of your art work. What do you say?

P.S

I actually caught a glimpse of you when you were walking away. Don’t worry I’m a lot richer than my house shows. Speaking of that I need to repaint my house. B.T.W My name is Terrence.

Wow I thought $400 bucks isn’t bad. Maybe this guy can even help me sell my paintings. I felt honored that one of my paintings actually saved someone from committing a grave mistake such as murder. I immediately wrote back and put the letter in his mailbox. I then continued my daily routine and that was that.