Island Art

                  Mick glanced around cautiously as he stepped through the sliding glass doors leading to Gabrielle's small beach front studio. Over his arm he was lugging two giant reusable bags packed to the brim with art supplies and a bunch of other junk. As she stood to the side to make way for his lumbersome frame, Gabrielle spotted several large brushes sticking out from one of the totes.

"All right girl, I brought a few extra art supplies here if you needed anything," Mick announced before slipping off his flip flops and placing them at the door.

Mick looked around the small studio and immediately appeared irritated

"You know Gabrielle, I pictured your studio to be homier. Why is it so bare in here?," he asked looking annoyed. "I thought maybe you would have painted the tiny handles on your kitchen cupboards different colors or something, or at least bothered to hang some art up on the walls."

"Oh, I like my living environment to be like a blank canvas. It helps me think better," Gabrielle gulped, hoping to sound cool.

Fidgeting in the middle of the room, she tried to envision the view of her studio through his eyes. Several of the lightbulbs were out, and with no t.v. , or decorations her home basically looked like a small prison cell. Gabrielle winced, then turned away towards the refrigerator to pour her second glass of red wine. Truthfully she’d began drinking before he arrived to calm her nerves.

After taking a small sip, she turned to watch Mick for a moment from across the room where she couldn't help but smile. They'd only been friends a few weeks, but she couldn't help herself from giggling at his quirky mannerisms. Wearing a bandana on his head and bobbing through his knapsack he looked just like Huck Fin out for an adventure.

I haven't painted in years," she admitted looking down at the rim of her wine glass and circling it with her finger.

"Well, get to it then girl," he shrugged without a giving her a second glance. Anyway...", he said over his shoulder, "I thought you were supposed to be like this amazing artist."

——

Glancing back at her own blank canvas, Gabrielle was instantly transported back to the painfully shy artist she was as a kid. At an early age Gabrielle had begun studying painting, where in grade school, she was considered sort of a local prodigy in her home town. She cringed thinking back on her parent's pride in her artistic talent. To this day they still loved to remind her of her god given brilliance.

           Standing alone in her dumpy studio, the bleakness of her own life hit her then hard. She was all alone on an island thousands of miles away from home with no hope of establishing a real adult life like her parents generation had been afforded. Men have it so much easier, she thought.

Only then did Gabrielle look over at Mick, who , case in point, seemed in a good enough mood. He had a pencil in hanging out of his mouth, and was making all sorts of contrived gestures with his paint brush, while happily slopping amateur paint stroked onto his page. It was like watching a performance of a young Bob Ross.

No matter how ridiculous he behaved, Gabrielle couldn't help but smile at his  "process". Ha! Art just for fun, she laughed to herself.

Letting it sink in, she considered the idea for a second. "Hmm, Art for fun?," she pondered.  At the moment the idea sounded revolutionary, almost rebellious. She gulped another swig of wine at the revelation. She’d have to be careful not to drink too much. The truth was she had spent the last several years making tedious commissions out of beads to support herself as an artist and completely abandoned her real passion for the arts. For her, art hadn't been fun in a very long time.

But.... She too was allowed to have fun, wasn't she? She too was allowed to take a break. There was no one there to tell her she couldn't. Gabrielle looked up at her blank canvas with hope in her eyes, reminding herself that she was actually allowed to enjoy her life.

Feeling shaken, she set her glass down on the coffee table , took a deep breath, picked up a paintbrush and sat down to paint.

            ————

A haunted girl stared back at her from her large scale canvas an hour later. The painting was done in odd  colors with big confident brush strokes. Hidden in the figure's eyes Gabrielle noticed a wildness that added a disturbing psychological element to the work. It wasn’t just the wine. This was her inner intensity coming forward through the page.

Gabrielle leaned back to study the composition, taking another small sip, before realizing Mick was standing next to her staring.

           "Gabrielle...why don't you just draw anime style like everyone else?," he blurted.

At that Gabrielle spit out part of her wine with a small laugh and wiped a happy tear. Truthfully, she was starting to enjoy how refreshing Mick's little low brow comments could be. He was so joyously uniformed. It was then that her mind drifted to the possibility of a first kiss.  Ugh she just couldn’t. He's a peasant, she reminded herself.

————

After they were done obligatorily viewing her "creepy" painting as Mick called it, Gabrielle coolly suggested they next check out his art piece, which was, conversely, the epitome of good vibes. Mick has painted a dopey cartoon lion outlined in black, with bright Rasta colors and smiling a big stony smile.

        "Ha, that's so you!" Gabrielle laughed.

Both paintings were self-portraits of course.

——-

"How about you paint my portrait now", Gabrielle suggested as she jumped up on the couch. "And not in cartoon style. Paint me using realism."

Gabrielle paused for a moment realizing her blunder. She had clearly been watching way too many romantic comedies online lately. She seriously hoped he didn't catch the accidental Titanic slip up.

After daring to check if he caught her mistake she was relieved to find Mick none the wiser, sharpening pencils with an exhilarated look on his face. “He must not have been listening,” Gabrielle thought, assuming he was probably too consumed over the prospect of showing off.

"Here try it with a pencil, it will be easier", Gabrielle instructed.

The island wind rattled the blinds and blew a hair off her forehead when she sat down on the couch with her wine, before arranging her skirt and then settling into her pose