''The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?'' - Pablo Picasso
Brow furrowed. Lip bitten. Hair in a messy bun. Pencil in hand. Blank canvas in view.
Iris stared at the blank canvas in front of her as she conjured up an image in her mind of the sketch that she was about to put on paper. After a while an image popped into her mind. She moved her hand with gentle pressure over the canvas, repeatedly, like a caress, as she started to sketch.
The title of the assignment that Mr.Black had given them was Love. Love was something quite complex and not something that Iris had experienced yet so she had to think a little while longer than usual before she started sketching.
''Okay, students, the two hours are up!'' Mr.Black announced as the time for the students to finish their own sketch was up.
He started to walk towards each easel and it's student, as he complimented each of their sketches and at times gave them his suggestions about what he would have done different to improve their work.
After he had seen the twenty students' sketches he moved towards Iris. He always left her the last because her artwork was one of his favourites since it was similar to his but at the same time the total opposite.
Iris held her breath as Mr.Black studied her sketch, two mouths in a dance of love.
''You never fail to amaze me, Iris, well done once again," He told her with a wide grin as he patted her shoulder and moved towards the front of the class.
''Thank you all for coming to this evening class, I'm glad to see that I haven't bored you yet!'' He laughed. ''We will meet again same time same place in one week. Take care and keep drawing.''
The students had started to walk out of the class room when Mr.Black called Iris.
''Is something wrong, sir?'' She asked him as she bit her lip, something that she did when she was nervous.
''No definitely not. I would like to tell you that you have a really amazing talent. Have you ever thought about going abroad to study art, to Florence perhaps? A friend of mine teaches there and I believe that he can help you develop your talent even more than me,'' He smiled at her.
Iris stared at him for a while, unsure of what to say. ''Thanks, sir, I'm flattered. The thing is that I'm quite happy here in London, studying law at uni and your classes have been helping me more, believe me.''
''I'm glad that I'm some help to you Iris, if you you change your mind about Florence let me know and if you have any questions feel free to call or e-mail me.''
''Thank you, sir. I appreciate your help a lot, goodnight and thanks once again,'' Iris smiled as she picked up her drawing book from the floor and started to walk towards the door.
''Goodnight, Iris and see you next week!''
She walked towards her Cream coloured car, got in and sat there for a while.
She had thought about going to study art abroad, it had always been a dream of hers, an impossible dream. Her parents would never approve, they wanted her to follow their footsteps and become a lawyer. In fact, she attended those evening classes in secret because they would lecture her that she shouldn't be wasting her time on trivial things, like art, when she should be studying the heavy boring books of law.
Iris took a breath in and let it out slowly before starting her car and driving off towards her house, without noticing that her teacher had been looking worryingly at her the whole time.
YOU ARE READING
The stroke of the brush against the canvas soothes Pierce's war ridden heart. The thirty year old, served in the army and now he's home. He decides to start teaching an art class, a silly idea at first, but soon it becomes therapeutic to him. He...