Blank Canvas

Chapter Eleven

He sat next to me. "I could hear your frustrated sighs from our house." His eyes were sparkling in jest. "I told my mom that it could either be you or a pregnant tree squirrel giving birth. I assumed it was you and I was right. Although, a litter of squirrel is okay too, I guess."

"It's for a school project," I answered as I added a thin layer of what I deemed to be as my eyebrow using an, ironically, an eyebrow pencil. I was almost done. I only have to draw the eyebrows and color the lips.

Jay's eyebrows rose slightly and he said, "You're using makeup?" He peered at my work without saying a word.

I nodded as he handed me my juice bottle.

"Cool." He put the bag of popcorn on my lap and I took a few kernels out. "How's it going?"

It was not easy. "It's a bit of a challenge. These kits are too thick and creamy so I added water to make them more viscous." I showed him the eye shadow and blush palette. In retrospect, I was glad that I added a few pots and tubes of face paint. They were much easier to work with.

He scrutinized my work and said, "It's good. What did you use for the face?"

I giggled and said, "The foundation, what else? What kind of question is that?"

He threw a few popcorn pieces at me. "You give a whole new meaning to art imitating life."

"I know." I said. "It was like being a real makeup artist, except that the face was not made of skin but of canvas." I stopped and said, "Tell me the truth, does it look like me or not?"

He looked at the painting and then at me. "Is that the goal? To have it look like you?"

I stared at my half-finished work with a frown. "I could have been more imaginative, I guess."

"Hey, stop. I am not questioning your art. Just asking about your intent. I'm sorry if I'm being too candid. Force of habit. That's how our teachers critique our work at school. You don't need to be always abstract and ambiguous, you know. Sometimes, being explicit is nice."

"You're saying I don't have to turn one side of my painted face into that of a rhinoceros, an elf or a combination of both?"

"You don't have to. But now, you absolutely awaken my curiosity."

I laughed out loud and picked up a sponge that I was using to blur out some edges. Jay was still hanging by my shoulder, squinting at my work.

"I see the resemblance. Would you let me add a few minor details?"

"Sure. Make sure to make me prettier though, okay?" I was kidding. I knew that I was nowhere near stunning or remarkable in the lens of the society and I was okay with that. When I say that I'm on the average level of the beauty standards scale, it's not an indication of self-loathing in any way. Rather, it'a a testimony of self-awareness and self-love. Celia once said that we all have unpretty parts. Parts that others don't like about us, parts that we don't like about ourselves. I always thought that when you embrace these parts, it makes you more human. But being human is not the the same as being liked. I positioned myself by the window. Even if nothing strenuous happened that day, I felt exhausted. The emotional rolllercoaster was taking its toll.

"You're already on the superlative form." He took a few pencils and a brush. "Don't move," he instructed.

Jay was a contemplative artist, only giving a few intense sideway glance and a quick look every now and then. On the other hand, his hands were fast, like lightning-fast. I could not keep up with what he was using. I was right in his view but I was not sure what he was doing. After a few minutes, he was finished.