The sky bloomed under her fingers, taking on the appearance of the dazzling sunrise she had enjoyed earlier in the week while walking to Cassie's. She had filed the vision away in a little drawer in her artist’s brain, meaning to use it in one of her paintings. Now it burst forth from its dark confines like Apollo’s chariot, winging the sun across the sky.
The heliotrope purple and fuchsia vibrated against the orange in the sky. Becca’s eyes were unfocused, choosing her colors by instinct rather than reality. She picked up an intense, electric blue, letting the edge of it wander randomly around the board as she twisted her hand. Putting the blue away, she stopped and looked at her painting.
She chose her golden orange again, highlighting the leading edges of her stones where they reached into the sky. She left the color unblended and broken and the energy of the stones seemed to pulse right off the rigid board.
-The Art of Love ©️Irene Doune
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