webnovel

Antithetical

A boy insomniac experiencing school in a different town from where he used to live. Meeting new people and experiencing new troubles that were unfamiliar to him originally.

CynicalPepper · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
5 Chs

HOME

The street became a slog to walk on. It felt like I was dragging my feet through wax. I didn't want to go home, I was fine just dealing with school, I especially don't want to go now since I have something that I want to experiment more with... I don't want to wait for tomorrow to do it again. I'll have to though.

I cross my fingers and hope that my dad isn't there. I enter slowly, checking if anyone was home. Luckily there was no one. I grab something from the fridge and head up the stairs and into my room. I'll eat my food here. I don't know what's wrong with me but... I just feel uncomfortable around him. I've tried understanding why I don't feel right around him but I never go anywhere.

I finish eating and I remember something Tris said. Something about drawing... drawing whatever you wanted. I don't need to think of the meaning and all I'd have to do was draw it.

I take out a sketchbook and draw, whatever I think of. I couldn't fathom how this would turn out but I drew, sketching out its form. I start with a hand, using my own as reference for it, starting from the fingers and going down my arm, shrinking it slightly to give it perspective. It looks a bit disproportionate but, I'll keep going with this.

I go down the arm, up from the forearm to the bicep and the bicep to the neck. So on and so forth.

I could come up with a face so I gave it none, I went to the body. I wanted to make it look famished like it was about to die of hunger. I don't know why this thought came to me but I wanted to illustrate it.

Visible ribs and disfigurations. The hand that was large, instead of going for something with perspective, instead it was a deformity. The shape of its pelvis being visible while its leg covers his genitals, the other leg standing straight wherein you can see all the details for its muscles. I wanted to perfect this in some way. I wanted to give it more detail.

I looked for references on my laptop, I wanted to see what this actually looks like. I didn't want to draw off of memory, I wanted something slightly more accurate.

I rip out the page, crumpling it up and throwing it away. I had a general idea of what I really wanted to do now. I stop myself before I continue, I'm confused with myself. Why now did I have this sudden eureka moment? Why am I now thinking like an artist? No, it isn't as complicated as I'm making it. This is just how everyone is while making art, no, rather this is how everyone should be. I can't talk since I'm obviously a beginner but... I can't understand someone trying to capture the realistic nature of their surroundings. It's an odd thought that came out of nowhere but isn't art something you do to capture something intangible.

No, I act as if I've never been like this before but rather I've always been like this. I've always believed these things even if I was never into art. I've always believed that art should always be something that is an expression of an intangible emotion shown by a drawing or painting. An incomprehensible blob of thoughts. I'm not talking about those stupid pieces of art that are just a black dot in the middle of a canvas.

Art is also something that people do to impress others. A combination of someone's gratitude, praise. A selfish piece of who you are told in the most unreasonable way possible.

Those pretentious fucks who look at paintings like this and try to discern meaning are the stupidest people I've ever seen. I've always been like this though. I can't form thoughts like normal people because of who I am as a person. I can think normally but there is always going to be something in the back of my mind that wants to tell others something that I don't even understand myself. Nobody should be able to understand the meaning of someone's art.

But I am referring to those who don't tell stories. Those who just draw. Those who put a pen to a canvas and don't have any other reason to what that piece is other than, "It was fun to do it."

I feel as if most artists who are explaining their piece if actually just spouting bullshit sometimes. I just want to let everything go. Art could probably help me with this. My opinion is probably wrong but I want to be those who can just "do" like Tris. I'm sure tomorrow though, I won't have any motivation to continue with this anymore but I want to force myself to. I want to experience something new.

I had the same dream again, I still can't remember what it was about.