The New American Dream

Part Four: Amsterdam | Chapter Thirty-Two

"But the overwhelming majority is buildings, don't argue with me on that, you know I'm right. And I'm not even saying his art is bad. It's great. It's fucking awesome. I just personally like yours better, honestly. And if Maison can sell his stuff then why shouldn't you be able to?"

"Because people that buy his prints are a fan of him. I bought my print because I love him and his art. But me? Maybe if this band thing ever works out and we have some sort of name, then I will consider selling any of my drawings as prints."

"You know, people sell their shit on etsy all the time, without people being fans of them. But hey, whatever you're comfortable with."

A comfortable silence spread as we both drifted off into slumber, next to each other on the bed.

However, we were soon woken up by knocking on our door. The boys were waiting for us, it was time for the sex museum.

I started to actually enjoy going with the metro, time passed differently down here and reality felt altered. It directly gave me a new idea of what to draw, like lightning had struck inside my brain. As quickly as possible I sketched the bare minimum to be able to properly make a drawing out of my current situation, for the rest my memory would have to suffice.

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The sex museum was interesting, to say the least. A building with multiple stories of sex history and the sexuality of humans. If nothing else, it was eye-opening at least. Maybe it was just me but I felt a little changed, a little more educated. The main takeaway here was: sexuality is fucking weird, not that I hadn't known that already.

What stood out most were several mannequins showing off different outfits, there was even a Marilyn Monroe mannequin. Oh and the two giant dicks you could take pictures with, those stood out quite a bit as well.

There was also an entire room dedicated to pictures of fetishes and bondage from the past. 'Shocking but informative' is what crossed my mind once we had left the room. The most interesting thing to me, however, was the art exhibition. I was amazed about the way sexuality could be portrayed in art. Inevitably my thoughts returned to my own art and while I didn't plan of portraying any sexual acts in them, I just wanted to go back to the hotel room and draw. From that point on I was just gone.

"It's not like I'm not enjoying myself, I'm just distracted," I pointed out once my friends had noticed my lack of attention and giddiness.

After all I finished the museum with the rest of them but then I wanted to go back to the hotel. Dan agreed to go with me as they still didn't want to let me go on my own. Maybe it was for the better, you probably shouldn't just run around a foreign city alone, especially if you were a young girl with no sense of orientation whatsoever.

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"You can stay if you want to but I will just sit around apathetically and draw for hours," I told Dan and made myself comfortable on my bed.

Dan sat down on the other bed and pulled out his phone. "Don't worry, I can entertain myself," he said with a smile.

I picked up the sketch of the subway train again and found myself mixing up reality with whatever my mind was coming up with. I made my own reality, a distorted version of it, and in that moment I understood what Maison meant when he said he didn't like this reality so he created his own. Not that I didn't enjoy my reality, at least at the moment I was at peace with myself and the world as it was around me. I hoped that wouldn't change too soon.

When I was satisfied with the subway train picture I turned the page back to my train station drawing I had started earlier and sat back down in front of the window without a single word. Dan looked up from his phone when I moved but he kept quiet. I finished the part of reality I could see in front of me and then added a few abstract elements, like people walking pet rabbits instead of dogs, stars and planets visible in the daytime or tentacle-like plants growing along the street and the train tracks. This was way more fun, creating my own reality.