(Aleksandra Prudius continued from Aleksandra))
It had been a few minutes since Aleksandra's brush had touched paint. She held it off to the side, occasionally using the blunt end to guide her vision as she looked it over. She followed it across the canvas, appreciating the field of art in front of her. It had been birthed from her own creative mind, and she had moved from creating it to examining what she had made.
Was this it? Was she done?
She had put a week's worth of work into this painting. One solid week of art classes spent meticulously pouring over each move she made. Trying to block out any distractions so that she could use her full focus to make the best piece she possibly could. And now, after all that work, it seemed that the fruit of those hours of work was before her. She washed her brush again, even though there wasn't anything on it aside from minuscule paint residue. It just seemed like a good way to signify that her work was finished.
But that made her wonder, was she really finished? At a glance, she was pretty sure she was. Her canvas had become a field of multicolored strokes, running alongside each other in various ways but never intersecting. Paint had touched almost every centimeter of the canvas, creating shaped waves of soft color. She thought that it looked vibrant. But before she finished, she wanted a second opinion, just to see how someone else felt about it. Art was subjective, but she still thought that getting another perspective would be good. She turned to the person working nearest to her and made her request.
"Willow, can you look at something for me?"
Speaking in Colors
Awash in waves of paint; Paging Lore
((Willow continued from rot.))
Willow wouldn't call herself an artist, but she sure could can make pretty things with her hands. While she didn't enjoy painting at school that much, there were different supplies she had access to here, different things she could touch to fuel her creativity. Painting was something she enjoyed deeply, but painting at school meant exposing her work to her peers. Sharing meant having eyes of others inspecting every inches of what she made out of her hands, and it just felt wrong.
Painting came from somewhere she didn't control, somewhere that was dark inside of her. That part inside of that scared her came to live with her hands, painting landscapes. They didn't mean nothing to anyone, and that was fine. It's not like they meant anything to her either, but they showed what her pain could make. That even though what was inside of her ate her guts on a daily basis, she was still able to use it to make something. The landscapes weren't that interesting most of the time: the view from her room at night, a piece of land she saw while in a car ride, the garden of Marianne. They were banal things, and she enjoyed that.
Her paintbrush was making circular motion, applying the carnation pink softly on the white canvas. She was okay at drawing petals. They had an assignment and she had to paint flowers, nothing too hard. She saw a lot of flowers in her life anyways. It wasn't like hard or anything. It was an easy grade that she desperately needed especially after being rejected. Anything to get her GPA would do, if it had to be a pink flowers picked up by a feminine hand from the point of the view of the girl, then so be it.
She wasn't painting alone, there was a girl near her. Whatever, just gimme that good grade. However the girl decided to speak to her, people spoke to her on a regular basis so that was nothing new. It was Aleksandra, she wasn't sure how to spell her name, or how to pronounce it. She turned her head toward the girl and set her paintbrush down beside her canvas. She nodded, replying to her demand without speaking a word.
Willow wouldn't call herself an artist, but she sure could can make pretty things with her hands. While she didn't enjoy painting at school that much, there were different supplies she had access to here, different things she could touch to fuel her creativity. Painting was something she enjoyed deeply, but painting at school meant exposing her work to her peers. Sharing meant having eyes of others inspecting every inches of what she made out of her hands, and it just felt wrong.
Painting came from somewhere she didn't control, somewhere that was dark inside of her. That part inside of that scared her came to live with her hands, painting landscapes. They didn't mean nothing to anyone, and that was fine. It's not like they meant anything to her either, but they showed what her pain could make. That even though what was inside of her ate her guts on a daily basis, she was still able to use it to make something. The landscapes weren't that interesting most of the time: the view from her room at night, a piece of land she saw while in a car ride, the garden of Marianne. They were banal things, and she enjoyed that.
Her paintbrush was making circular motion, applying the carnation pink softly on the white canvas. She was okay at drawing petals. They had an assignment and she had to paint flowers, nothing too hard. She saw a lot of flowers in her life anyways. It wasn't like hard or anything. It was an easy grade that she desperately needed especially after being rejected. Anything to get her GPA would do, if it had to be a pink flowers picked up by a feminine hand from the point of the view of the girl, then so be it.
She wasn't painting alone, there was a girl near her. Whatever, just gimme that good grade. However the girl decided to speak to her, people spoke to her on a regular basis so that was nothing new. It was Aleksandra, she wasn't sure how to spell her name, or how to pronounce it. She turned her head toward the girl and set her paintbrush down beside her canvas. She nodded, replying to her demand without speaking a word.
Good, she had Willow's attention. Now she needed to show her work.
Aleksandra was naturally a bit apprehensive to show off her art. She really did like it, and she loved making it, but it was exposing it to criticism that gave her a case of nerves. She figured that most people were like that when they put themselves out there like that. Well, maybe not super-confident people, the types who were sure that they were awesome in all of their endeavors. Aleksandra was definitely not that sort of person, though. She definitely had her points of anxiety, and this was one of them.
She slowly and carefully picked up her easel. She was very cautious, and moved ever so gradually to make sure that her canvas stayed in the... pocket? She supposed that's what she could call the part of the easel that held the canvas in place. She took every precaution she reasonably could in the process, but she was still extremely wary of anything that could bring harm to her work. She started explaining her request to Willow, her usually less-emotive voice occasionally stumbling as she adjusted her grip. Although the explanation was less in Willow's direction and more just coming out of her mouth while she handled her art.
"I've been working on this all week, and I really want some feedback before I turn it in." She paused, focusing on making sure the easel was still steady. "So I wanted to hear what you thought about it. If it's okay with you, I mean."
She finished turning the easel, leaving her painting fully in Willow's view. Now she just had to hope for the best.
Aleksandra was naturally a bit apprehensive to show off her art. She really did like it, and she loved making it, but it was exposing it to criticism that gave her a case of nerves. She figured that most people were like that when they put themselves out there like that. Well, maybe not super-confident people, the types who were sure that they were awesome in all of their endeavors. Aleksandra was definitely not that sort of person, though. She definitely had her points of anxiety, and this was one of them.
She slowly and carefully picked up her easel. She was very cautious, and moved ever so gradually to make sure that her canvas stayed in the... pocket? She supposed that's what she could call the part of the easel that held the canvas in place. She took every precaution she reasonably could in the process, but she was still extremely wary of anything that could bring harm to her work. She started explaining her request to Willow, her usually less-emotive voice occasionally stumbling as she adjusted her grip. Although the explanation was less in Willow's direction and more just coming out of her mouth while she handled her art.
"I've been working on this all week, and I really want some feedback before I turn it in." She paused, focusing on making sure the easel was still steady. "So I wanted to hear what you thought about it. If it's okay with you, I mean."
She finished turning the easel, leaving her painting fully in Willow's view. Now she just had to hope for the best.
Oh, she had to critique her work. She wasn't sure how to do it, really. Saying it was pretty or ugly wouldn't do Aleksandra any favor, but at the same time Willow knew she lacked some knowledge to make an actual good critique. Willow wasn't a good critique either, she often let her emotions pick what she would say without being objectives. It wasn't that much of problem, at least from her point of view, but she could come off as rude. She agreed to the girl's request, she felt like helping out.
"I mean, sure."
She squinted her eyes, faking to be studying the painting. In her head, however, she mused about how she would phrase the sentence. It wasn't an ugly painting, but Willow couldn't call it pretty either. She had to critique this as best she could with her limited abilities. Well, this was a challenge. She didn't want to hurt Aleksandra's feelings but she also wanted to be as helpful as possible to her. She looked at the colors, and she found something that she could pick on. Other than that, she thought her piece was solid. She stopped squinting her eyes, stopped the inspection of every inches of the canvas and cocked her head.
She felt like burping but that would probably be awkward. She muffled it, making her look even more interested in the girl's piece. She moved her lips while looking at it, trying to find something else to point one. There was one thing that she didn't like but she needed something else good to point out. She couldn't only say bad things, she needed to say at least one good thing. She put her right hand under her chin then looked at Aleksandra then back to the piece. She knew what she would say.
"Good news or bad news?"
"I mean, sure."
She squinted her eyes, faking to be studying the painting. In her head, however, she mused about how she would phrase the sentence. It wasn't an ugly painting, but Willow couldn't call it pretty either. She had to critique this as best she could with her limited abilities. Well, this was a challenge. She didn't want to hurt Aleksandra's feelings but she also wanted to be as helpful as possible to her. She looked at the colors, and she found something that she could pick on. Other than that, she thought her piece was solid. She stopped squinting her eyes, stopped the inspection of every inches of the canvas and cocked her head.
She felt like burping but that would probably be awkward. She muffled it, making her look even more interested in the girl's piece. She moved her lips while looking at it, trying to find something else to point one. There was one thing that she didn't like but she needed something else good to point out. She couldn't only say bad things, she needed to say at least one good thing. She put her right hand under her chin then looked at Aleksandra then back to the piece. She knew what she would say.
"Good news or bad news?"
Aleksandra started to feel uneasy with anticipation as Willow looked over her painting. She put her hands in her pockets for lack of anything else to do with them aside from letting them do their own thing, and she swayed a bit from side to side. It was one of her more noticeable stims, playing the same role as her rocking when she was sitting. She hadn't felt the need to do so earlier, but her painting had been doing a good job of occupying her attention. Now her nerves were getting the better of her, and it was hard not to show it.
Oh no.
There was something about the way that Willow worded what she said that gave Aleksandra a really, really bad feeling. Usually someone didn't ask whether you wanted the bad news unless they had some really, really major issues to address. She started wondering what could be wrong with her picture. Was it the negative space? Was there not enough? Or maybe too much? What about the colors? Was the ratio of warm to cool off-balance in a way that hurt the aesthetics? Was the mix of colors thrown off because she didn't use any purple? She never used purple, and she never thought that might be a problem until just now.
Thinking about everything that might be wrong with her painting really wasn't helping Aleksandra keep calm. She just wanted to hear what Willow had to say and hope that it wasn't as bad as she feared.
"Uh... whatever you want, I guess."
Oh no.
There was something about the way that Willow worded what she said that gave Aleksandra a really, really bad feeling. Usually someone didn't ask whether you wanted the bad news unless they had some really, really major issues to address. She started wondering what could be wrong with her picture. Was it the negative space? Was there not enough? Or maybe too much? What about the colors? Was the ratio of warm to cool off-balance in a way that hurt the aesthetics? Was the mix of colors thrown off because she didn't use any purple? She never used purple, and she never thought that might be a problem until just now.
Thinking about everything that might be wrong with her painting really wasn't helping Aleksandra keep calm. She just wanted to hear what Willow had to say and hope that it wasn't as bad as she feared.
"Uh... whatever you want, I guess."
"I don't like the colors."
She paused and smiled at Aleksandra. See Willow, that wasn't so bad. You didn't shoot her in the gut and let her bleed out and expected her to be happy. She continued with a sing-song voice.
"That's the bad news," her voice went back to normal, going down an octave, "I think that's just personal taste, though."
There wasn't a lot of else to say. Now to the good point, she isn't form exactly in her mind, she knew vaguely what she wanted to say but not how to say. She smiled softly at the girl as she stopped her breath.
"I think this piece really screams," she took a dramatic pause then stared into the girl's eyes, "you."
She should take acting classes, she would be great at them. The compliment was genuine. At least, Willow thought it was. She cocked her head softly to the right, her lips opening slightly again.
"Is there anything else?"
She paused and smiled at Aleksandra. See Willow, that wasn't so bad. You didn't shoot her in the gut and let her bleed out and expected her to be happy. She continued with a sing-song voice.
"That's the bad news," her voice went back to normal, going down an octave, "I think that's just personal taste, though."
There wasn't a lot of else to say. Now to the good point, she isn't form exactly in her mind, she knew vaguely what she wanted to say but not how to say. She smiled softly at the girl as she stopped her breath.
"I think this piece really screams," she took a dramatic pause then stared into the girl's eyes, "you."
She should take acting classes, she would be great at them. The compliment was genuine. At least, Willow thought it was. She cocked her head softly to the right, her lips opening slightly again.
"Is there anything else?"
"Oh."
So it was the colors. Aleksandra turned to look at her painting. She was feeling a whole lot less confident in it than she was a few minutes ago. Her mind started to pick it apart piece by piece as she tried to figure out what the problem was. Was the balance off? Did she use the wrong colors? Did she put them in the wrong places? Was her entire approach wrong from the start? She knew that Willow didn't like it, but she needed to know exactly why. Otherwise she would end up tearing it apart mentally trying to figure it out.
"Can you tell me what you don't like about the colors?" She requested, her legs still restless. "You know, so I don't make the same mistakes again?"
So it was the colors. Aleksandra turned to look at her painting. She was feeling a whole lot less confident in it than she was a few minutes ago. Her mind started to pick it apart piece by piece as she tried to figure out what the problem was. Was the balance off? Did she use the wrong colors? Did she put them in the wrong places? Was her entire approach wrong from the start? She knew that Willow didn't like it, but she needed to know exactly why. Otherwise she would end up tearing it apart mentally trying to figure it out.
"Can you tell me what you don't like about the colors?" She requested, her legs still restless. "You know, so I don't make the same mistakes again?"
Oops, Willow made a faux-pas. Aleksandra was visibly affected by her comment, she could see it in her change in posture, the way she moved and talked. Well, that could have went better but it's not like Willow said anything that was vile. She gave her opinion as asked, wasn't her fault that Aleksandra was a nervous.
Oh, Willow realized she needed to know better. Why would Aleksandra, an acquaintance, asked her opinion on the work? Well, obviously an opinion, but what was more obvious was reassurance. She wanted to be assured she did a good job, like a pat on the back but with words instead. Yeah, that made more sense. It was paradoxical, really. She wanted a honest critic but also a good and positive one.
She wanted both of them, which wasn't really a possibility with what she asked. Plus, it wasn't like Aleksandra's painting wasn't that good anyways, no offense. It wasn't bad but there was always room for improvement, she should have at least expected one or two constructive criticism. Willow realized that her thought process was hypocritical, but she decided to ignore it.
"Like I said," too snappy, she thought to herself, she soften the features of her already sharp face with a small smile, as if she was trying to make a sword blunt, "it's a personal thing. I just don't like that blue with that orange."
Oh, Willow realized she needed to know better. Why would Aleksandra, an acquaintance, asked her opinion on the work? Well, obviously an opinion, but what was more obvious was reassurance. She wanted to be assured she did a good job, like a pat on the back but with words instead. Yeah, that made more sense. It was paradoxical, really. She wanted a honest critic but also a good and positive one.
She wanted both of them, which wasn't really a possibility with what she asked. Plus, it wasn't like Aleksandra's painting wasn't that good anyways, no offense. It wasn't bad but there was always room for improvement, she should have at least expected one or two constructive criticism. Willow realized that her thought process was hypocritical, but she decided to ignore it.
"Like I said," too snappy, she thought to herself, she soften the features of her already sharp face with a small smile, as if she was trying to make a sword blunt, "it's a personal thing. I just don't like that blue with that orange."
The orange and the blue?
Aleksandra looked at her painting again. There were a lot of places where she saw orange and blue near each other. A few different shades of blue, too. She wondered which instance Willow was referring to. Was it a spot on the painting, or a specific shade? Or maybe she just didn't like the combination of orange and blue in the first place. That was fair. Aleksandra didn't like purple, so she could relate.
"Okay."
Even if Aleksandra wanted to change it, it was too late for it now. Most of the paint had already dried, and she didn't want to paint over it. Most only would it look messy, but it would be covering up what she had spent the past week painstakingly creating, and she didn't want to do that. Even if it wasn't perfect, she had still worked hard on it, and she was proud of it. But even still, she was concerned about her performance. Mr. Clarke hadn't shown himself to be a harsh critic in the past. He was very detailed in his appraisals, but never unfair. Maybe it was good for Aleks to get another point of view from Willow, to help her see things from another angle.
"Thanks."
All of this talk was making Aleksandra curious about what Willow was painting. She had shown Willow what she made, so it was only fair, right? She pointed to the smaller girl's canvas. "Can I see what you're working on? I mean, if you're okay with that."
Aleksandra looked at her painting again. There were a lot of places where she saw orange and blue near each other. A few different shades of blue, too. She wondered which instance Willow was referring to. Was it a spot on the painting, or a specific shade? Or maybe she just didn't like the combination of orange and blue in the first place. That was fair. Aleksandra didn't like purple, so she could relate.
"Okay."
Even if Aleksandra wanted to change it, it was too late for it now. Most of the paint had already dried, and she didn't want to paint over it. Most only would it look messy, but it would be covering up what she had spent the past week painstakingly creating, and she didn't want to do that. Even if it wasn't perfect, she had still worked hard on it, and she was proud of it. But even still, she was concerned about her performance. Mr. Clarke hadn't shown himself to be a harsh critic in the past. He was very detailed in his appraisals, but never unfair. Maybe it was good for Aleks to get another point of view from Willow, to help her see things from another angle.
"Thanks."
All of this talk was making Aleksandra curious about what Willow was painting. She had shown Willow what she made, so it was only fair, right? She pointed to the smaller girl's canvas. "Can I see what you're working on? I mean, if you're okay with that."
Willow squinted so hard she saw three new colors. Sounded like someone wanted to enact on their petty revenge, but Willow had it coming. She kept squinting. She wondered what Aleksandra would say, what kind of words that would come out of her mouth. Would they be true? Willow didn't have any reasons to assume that Aleksandra would lie about it, but she quietly mused about the though of Aleksandra trying to hurt Willow by lying to her. Jokes on you Aleksandra, she didn't care about the painting, it was a free grade. She wanted to see Aleksandra's next move.
"Well, sure," she smiled and nodded. She took a step back, letting Aleksandra look at her piece. She looked at Aleksandra's reaction, studying her face and her traits. Aleksandra was pretty, she just realized that. It reminded her of how ugly she felt, it just made her feelings toward more and more convoluted. She had no reasons to hate her but, slowly, the hatred rose inside of her and she wondered why.
"So, what do you think?"
"Well, sure," she smiled and nodded. She took a step back, letting Aleksandra look at her piece. She looked at Aleksandra's reaction, studying her face and her traits. Aleksandra was pretty, she just realized that. It reminded her of how ugly she felt, it just made her feelings toward more and more convoluted. She had no reasons to hate her but, slowly, the hatred rose inside of her and she wondered why.
"So, what do you think?"
Aleksandra stepped over to get a batter look at Willow's painting. Her expression remained unchanging for the most part aside from her eyes, which were busy examining the canvas as her vision poured over Willow's work.
They definitely had different styles. Aleksandra was more into surreal, formless work, but Willow was working on something more concrete. A flower, actually. That didn't make it bad, though. Her style was just the one that was more comfortable to work with. That didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy other people making something different. Art was all about the eye of the beholder, right?
It looked like Willow was still working on it, since she could see some outlines that hadn't been filled in yet, and judging from what she had painted, it didn't look like she was planning to leave those spots blank. Well, she supposed that was a possibility, but if she didn't plan on finishing it with color, then why would she go through the trouble of outlining it? That's what she thought, anyway. But since it was unfinished, she couldn't really judge it as a whole yet. She couldn't really pass judgment on something that wasn't even there yet, after all.
But Aleks liked what she saw. The pink that Willow used for the flower really looked nice. It was probably going to look really good once it was finished. She smiled as she admired the piece in progress.
"It's pretty." She commented in a friendly way. She held up a finger towards the canvas. "What kind of flower is that?"
They definitely had different styles. Aleksandra was more into surreal, formless work, but Willow was working on something more concrete. A flower, actually. That didn't make it bad, though. Her style was just the one that was more comfortable to work with. That didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy other people making something different. Art was all about the eye of the beholder, right?
It looked like Willow was still working on it, since she could see some outlines that hadn't been filled in yet, and judging from what she had painted, it didn't look like she was planning to leave those spots blank. Well, she supposed that was a possibility, but if she didn't plan on finishing it with color, then why would she go through the trouble of outlining it? That's what she thought, anyway. But since it was unfinished, she couldn't really judge it as a whole yet. She couldn't really pass judgment on something that wasn't even there yet, after all.
But Aleks liked what she saw. The pink that Willow used for the flower really looked nice. It was probably going to look really good once it was finished. She smiled as she admired the piece in progress.
"It's pretty." She commented in a friendly way. She held up a finger towards the canvas. "What kind of flower is that?"
"Thank you," she replied sweetly, "it's a carnation, by the way."
She was surprised by Aleksandra's lack of critical comment. She expected a little bit more from her, something more precise in her words. Maybe she was restraining her comments because the piece wasn't over, and she was waiting for it to be over before going for the jugular. Willow smiled softly at that thought, she hated being critiqued and if Aleksandra was too much of a coward to do it now, she just had to never show the finished piece to her. Well, that was easy. Time to ignore her for the next day or two, time to finish it and hand it in and never speak about it ever again. A childish game of cat-and-mouse started playing in her brain and Willow wanted to win it.
She wondered if Aleksandra's comment was genuine. She didn't want to put the girl on a trial of intention, but Willow wondered what she really thought of it. Perhaps she was honest, but Willow wasn't sure. It was easy to lie, it was just a white lie, a soft one that people could ignore. Was Willow being cynical? Possibly, and Willow didn't like that. As time went on, her inner dialogue became more and more negative, trusting others less and less, often thinking people were just nice because that was how they were raised. Willow hated thinking like that, made her feel edgy but it felt like the logical answer when she spoke to girls like Aleksandra. She wish she could just go inside people's head, scan it, then leave it and know for sure what people thought of her.
"Well," her lips curled in a smile, her eyes squinting softly, "is there anything else you need?"
She was surprised by Aleksandra's lack of critical comment. She expected a little bit more from her, something more precise in her words. Maybe she was restraining her comments because the piece wasn't over, and she was waiting for it to be over before going for the jugular. Willow smiled softly at that thought, she hated being critiqued and if Aleksandra was too much of a coward to do it now, she just had to never show the finished piece to her. Well, that was easy. Time to ignore her for the next day or two, time to finish it and hand it in and never speak about it ever again. A childish game of cat-and-mouse started playing in her brain and Willow wanted to win it.
She wondered if Aleksandra's comment was genuine. She didn't want to put the girl on a trial of intention, but Willow wondered what she really thought of it. Perhaps she was honest, but Willow wasn't sure. It was easy to lie, it was just a white lie, a soft one that people could ignore. Was Willow being cynical? Possibly, and Willow didn't like that. As time went on, her inner dialogue became more and more negative, trusting others less and less, often thinking people were just nice because that was how they were raised. Willow hated thinking like that, made her feel edgy but it felt like the logical answer when she spoke to girls like Aleksandra. She wish she could just go inside people's head, scan it, then leave it and know for sure what people thought of her.
"Well," her lips curled in a smile, her eyes squinting softly, "is there anything else you need?"
A carnation. Yeah, that sounded right. Aleksandra didn't know a lot about flowers aside from a section on botany from science class, so she couldn't pin down a lot of flowers just from a glance. She knew that carnations were pink though, even if she didn't have their shape committed to memory. She was pretty sure it would be a better indicator once it was finished.
Oh, that's right. It wasn't finished yet. Well, she was pretty sure that she had a good idea of where Willow was going with the painting judging by what had already been painted and outlined. Unless she had plans for something along the edges or in the background and just hadn't gotten around to making any note of it yet. That seemed implausible, but she supposed it was possible as well. But with how Willow had gone through with outlining her flower, Aleksandra figured that she had probably planned all the details out ahead of time.
"Yeah, um..." She looked back at the painting, then to Willow again. "Do you think I could see it again after you finish? I want to know how it looks after everything's done."
She hoped that Willow would be fine with the idea. Now that she had seen the work in progress, she needed to know what the end result would look like.
Oh, that's right. It wasn't finished yet. Well, she was pretty sure that she had a good idea of where Willow was going with the painting judging by what had already been painted and outlined. Unless she had plans for something along the edges or in the background and just hadn't gotten around to making any note of it yet. That seemed implausible, but she supposed it was possible as well. But with how Willow had gone through with outlining her flower, Aleksandra figured that she had probably planned all the details out ahead of time.
"Yeah, um..." She looked back at the painting, then to Willow again. "Do you think I could see it again after you finish? I want to know how it looks after everything's done."
She hoped that Willow would be fine with the idea. Now that she had seen the work in progress, she needed to know what the end result would look like.
Willow wondered in that moment if the girl could read minds, maybe she should be more careful about her thoughts in the future. She didn't want anyone to take actions she didn't want because she jinxed it inside of her head. If Aleksandra had mind reading power, she wouldn't be in high school, she reassured herself. Maybe she just read that and she would laugh, but she didn't. She sighed mentally. She should be careful from now on around her.
So Aleksandra wanted to see her piece when it was going to be finished, and it annoyed her. It was only for the art teacher's eyes, not for anyone else. She didn't want someone to critique her work, especially one that she didn't care about.
She just realized it didn't make any sense. She didn't want to be critiqued on something she don't care about. If anything, she could zone out for a good 3 minute and not listen to what she had to say, but she still insisted that Aleksandra wouldn't voice what she had in her mind.
It felt like it would make it true. He wanted Aleksandra to keep her mouth shut about it, not opening it and moving on. It was petty and childish, but she didn't even want to know that Aleksandra had these thoughts.
Yet, once again, there was a contradiction that just appeared in Willow mind. She was now curious. While she didn't want to be critiqued, she wanted to know: she wasn't sure which one was the strongest and which would win the fight. Would her pride triumph or would curiosity kill the cat?
Willow wasn't sure so she didn't answer Aleksandra. At least, not immediately. She kept the conversation frozen by saying nothing, by letting time move and leaving the other girl up in the air, between the ground and the clouds. Her eyes started to hurt from the squinting, so she relaxed her face. Willow looked at her piece and she questioned if she did care about it. She potentially did, but because it was school she wanted not to care. It's not like she would keep it, she didn't want to care about, but the flower was there in front of her, and Willow gave birth to it. She probably didn't care, and she just didn't want another voice, but that wasn't hers, who said she wasn't good enough. That was annoying, to say the least. She scratched her chin with her paint stained finger. She probably had some pink hue on her face now, she would have to wash it off later when she realized she had spent the day with it on her face. Her future self, if it existed, wondered if this would the drop that would make Willow explode. While Willow wasn't a withering time bomb anymore, she wasn't wholly sure if she would go back to be one. Perhaps, she was a time bomb for a time bomb. She knew the warning signs, though.
"Mmmm." It came out without Willow allowing it, so she finished it with a voluntary statement, "I'll think about it. Depends on schedule and stuff, I'm kinda busy."
She took a break then looked at her again, smiling though. "You know, school and all."
So Aleksandra wanted to see her piece when it was going to be finished, and it annoyed her. It was only for the art teacher's eyes, not for anyone else. She didn't want someone to critique her work, especially one that she didn't care about.
She just realized it didn't make any sense. She didn't want to be critiqued on something she don't care about. If anything, she could zone out for a good 3 minute and not listen to what she had to say, but she still insisted that Aleksandra wouldn't voice what she had in her mind.
It felt like it would make it true. He wanted Aleksandra to keep her mouth shut about it, not opening it and moving on. It was petty and childish, but she didn't even want to know that Aleksandra had these thoughts.
Yet, once again, there was a contradiction that just appeared in Willow mind. She was now curious. While she didn't want to be critiqued, she wanted to know: she wasn't sure which one was the strongest and which would win the fight. Would her pride triumph or would curiosity kill the cat?
Willow wasn't sure so she didn't answer Aleksandra. At least, not immediately. She kept the conversation frozen by saying nothing, by letting time move and leaving the other girl up in the air, between the ground and the clouds. Her eyes started to hurt from the squinting, so she relaxed her face. Willow looked at her piece and she questioned if she did care about it. She potentially did, but because it was school she wanted not to care. It's not like she would keep it, she didn't want to care about, but the flower was there in front of her, and Willow gave birth to it. She probably didn't care, and she just didn't want another voice, but that wasn't hers, who said she wasn't good enough. That was annoying, to say the least. She scratched her chin with her paint stained finger. She probably had some pink hue on her face now, she would have to wash it off later when she realized she had spent the day with it on her face. Her future self, if it existed, wondered if this would the drop that would make Willow explode. While Willow wasn't a withering time bomb anymore, she wasn't wholly sure if she would go back to be one. Perhaps, she was a time bomb for a time bomb. She knew the warning signs, though.
"Mmmm." It came out without Willow allowing it, so she finished it with a voluntary statement, "I'll think about it. Depends on schedule and stuff, I'm kinda busy."
She took a break then looked at her again, smiling though. "You know, school and all."
Aleksandra wondered is she had said something wrong, because Willow really didn't look too happy with her from the way she was staring.
She hadn't really done anything wrong, had she? She just said that she thought Willow's painting was pretty, and it was. It wasn't finished yet, but that was just a part of the process. It would be done soon, and then then they would know how everything came together. Maybe Willow thought that she was saying that it wasn't good when she said she wanted to see it again? That definitely wasn't her intention, and she hoped that Willow hadn't heard it that way. If what she had yet to paint was as good as what she had already finished, then Aleks was pretty sure that it would look amazing. But now she had to wonder if she had accidentally given Willow the wrong idea when she spoke.
That thought colored her perception of Willow's answer. Was her saying that she'll think about it just a way to say that she didn't want Aleksandra to look at her work anymore? It kind of hurt to think about it in that way. She really hadn't meant any harm, and she hoped that Willow hadn't seen it that way.
"That's okay." Her voice lost a bit of confidence, and she was having some trouble keeping eye contact as she wondered about the meaning of Willow's words. "Just let me know, I guess."
She hadn't really done anything wrong, had she? She just said that she thought Willow's painting was pretty, and it was. It wasn't finished yet, but that was just a part of the process. It would be done soon, and then then they would know how everything came together. Maybe Willow thought that she was saying that it wasn't good when she said she wanted to see it again? That definitely wasn't her intention, and she hoped that Willow hadn't heard it that way. If what she had yet to paint was as good as what she had already finished, then Aleks was pretty sure that it would look amazing. But now she had to wonder if she had accidentally given Willow the wrong idea when she spoke.
That thought colored her perception of Willow's answer. Was her saying that she'll think about it just a way to say that she didn't want Aleksandra to look at her work anymore? It kind of hurt to think about it in that way. She really hadn't meant any harm, and she hoped that Willow hadn't seen it that way.
"That's okay." Her voice lost a bit of confidence, and she was having some trouble keeping eye contact as she wondered about the meaning of Willow's words. "Just let me know, I guess."