Brent's Workshop

The next day, I woke up early to prepare for the workshop. I wore a loose black shirt tucked in my pair of casual slacks, then my white shoes. I brought my sling bag with me and headed to the lobby where everyone is waiting.

"Good morning!" Sai greeted.

We rode a van and I watched the streets as we travelled again. Minutes later we arrived at the venue and it's now full of citizens of the East.

I remembered how Iseul told me that Eastern people hurt each other. But I haven't seen any glimpse of violence until now. They don't have the same privilege as the other parts of the island, but little by little, citizens from other regions are helping the East to rebuild itself. Things are not as bad as it used to and I wanted to inform Iseul about that.

A staff from the workshop welcomed us. They handed some cup of coffee upon arriving. The event will start an hour from now, we are just waiting for participants to line up outside.

"Here, it's a name tag and I wrote your name already." Sai placed a sticker on the left side of my chest. It has my name on it, she also has one. "Are you excited later?" She asked and sipped on her coffee.

"About the workshop or about searching for Iseul's home?"

"Uh, the workshop? It's pretty obvious that you wanna search for her home badly." She rolled her eyes.

"I attended workshops before, as a helper and a participant so I think I'll have fun," I said.

"This is my first time! Dad doesn't bring me here at all. I wonder why he even invited me today... but anyways, I'm glad we can help people here to embrace art."

She's right. That's a big start for everyone.

We started welcoming attendees. Most of the participants were children. Adults are also here. Everyone sat on the chairs provided at the center of the venue. They are facing the front stage that we decorated yesterday.

"Good morning, everyone! Are you all excited to learn how to paint and draw?" The host went up the stage.

I was standing beside Sai while watching the master of ceremony. He was introducing Howard Brent who will be the instructor for today. A staff gave us a signal so I helped in distributing paints and canvases on the table.

"Yo... han..."

I glanced at the kid who read my name. She was surprised when I got her attention.

"Hi there, Anatole." I read her name. She's the only one occupying the table at the back. "Don't you want to sit with other kids?" I asked.

"I'm... shy. Is it okay if I sit here?" She was trying to avoid my gaze. I smiled a bit and placed the canvas in front of her.

"Of course, you can sit wherever you feel most comfortable." It's one of the three tables that I'm assigned so I'll be checking up on her later.

She smiled widely. "Thank you, Yohan!"

And so the first class commenced. Howard was explaining the basics, just like the color theory. It made me reminisce my previous school and how I started my love for painting. The participants were listening eagerly. Then the second session started wherein participants will now use the materials provided on the table.

I went back to a table where Anatole was sitting. The other tables that I'm assigned to had adult participants and they are helping children with their paint.

"Need a little help?" I asked. She handed the small paint container and I opened it for her.

"Thank you!" she said.

I watched how she followed Howard's instructions. She was doing really well, her strokes were consistent and neat.

"Have you been painting for a while?" I asked and sat beside Anatole. She's still in the middle of painting here canvas.

"Yes... secretly."

"You're doing a great job," I said, praising her work. Her cheeks turned red and looked away.

"You're the first person who told me that," she said.

"If you're ready to tell that secret of yours to everyone, I'm sure they'll love your work too."

She pressed her lips and smiled at me. "Grandma would get mad at me. But thank you for praising my work, it means a lot."

I didn't ask more. Someone will get mad at her for painting? It reminded me of my own parents.

I stood up and ruffled her hair. "Keep doing what you love, Anatole."

The workshop had a quick break. I assisted on distributing snacks for everyone and sat on a bench right after. I'm eating a sandwich, gazing at everyone who looked so happy with their works.

"What's up?" Sai sat beside me, holding a paper cup and a sandwich.

"You've got some paint on your face," I said and I tried removing it. "It's dry already."

"Oh, I forgot! Some kid accidentally painted on my face," she laughed. "I'll remove it later. Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, reminds me of art school."

Howard went on stage again for the third class, we placed another set of canvases for everyone. I went back to work and assisted some kids, most of them are having a hard time opening the paint containers.

"Ugh, I messed up."

I approached Anatole's table when I saw disappointment on her face. I looked at her artwork, she made a slight mistake.

"Hey, it's fine. You can't make a beautiful painting without messing up a few times," I tried cheering up the kid.

"I'll try again..." she said and grabbed her round paintbrush. I watched her getting some paint and brushing it on the canvas. "I did it wrongly again, I'm not really good at this."

She placed the paintbrush on a cup with water, she looked defeated.

"Life's a continuous process of learning, Anatole. You don't have to be great at something to enjoy it." I said.

"Are you a painter too?" she asked and I nodded my head. "Then, you must have made beautiful pieces. Mine's a total mess." She sounded discouraged.

"Believe me, I made thousands of mistakes before making it this far." I sat on a chair beside her and grabbed the paintbrush that she used. I was also like her when I made mistakes before.

"Really? Then how can I manage to go far too?" She sounded curious now.

"You should know that mistakes are part of life. You can even create a beautiful artwork out of the mess you sometimes make," I laughed.

"Then why am I making mistakes like this?" she pointed at the painting that she was making.

"Let me teach you. Wait for the acrylic paint to dry first then you can paint over it again." I said. She watched me used the paintbrush to get a small amount of paint.

"I think it's dry already..." she said and gently touched the canvas using her index finger.

"Anatole, it's important to not overload your brush. It's pretty hard to control how you add details when there's too much paint on these bristles... see?" I gave her an example using a scratch paper.

She gasped. "Oh, so that's why I've been making such mistakes ever since. I get it now." Anatole lightly touched the canvas again to check if the paint was dry before applying another.

"It's better, right?" I asked. She smiled widely and nodded her head.

"Yes. Don't carry to much... paint... got it."