In light of the situation [Sam]
May 10, 2011 11:13:41 GMT -5
Post by Annabelle Coronova on May 10, 2011 11:13:41 GMT -5
A rather dark, cloudy day, on the verge of a thunderstorm, Anna found it best to head on over to The Blue Dog, her go-to spot whenever she was craving a cup of tea, which usually led to inspiration of some kind. With her, she packed charcoals, paper towels, and a small canvas, just the perfect size to slide easily into her backpack. She needed no more than a few dollars for the beverage, and after grabbing that, she headed out of her dorm, down the stair cases, and out of the main entrance door towards downtown.
People were few and far between, many of them looking up at the sky, as if just waiting for the rain to start pouring down. And now that she thought of it, Anna had forgotten an umbrella, something that could be quite useful, especially if she had finished or unfinished artwork with her. That charcoal would smudge and smear like no other if any bit of liquid got on it. But then she wondered, what would water do to a charcoal? Would it look as if the world was melting, falling apart? It might not turn out so bad then, if she had drawn it for that effect.
Scampering into the old, musty coffee shoppe with dusty windows, and rarely a soul inside, outside of the barista and the old man who habitually sat in the back, Mr. Detective, she called him, always reading old newspapers. The older woman greeted her with a familiar smile and wave, and after putting down her bag gently on one of the two plush chairs facing a round coffee table and the dank windows, Belle grabbed her crumpled up dollar bills and coins, headed over to the barista, and ordered her usual: a cup of blueberry tea. While she waited for the lady to boil the water, she leaned up against the wall and looked around. What could she possibly sketch today? Without much adequate light in here, except for a few table lamps, and the cloudy sky not being too much of a help in that sense, it might be a bit more difficult than she had initially imagined. Perhaps she could draw Mr. Detective. He was never really aware of anything past his newspaper, and he had a lamp right next to him, providing excellent shadow and composure. Yes, today would be a day dedicated to Mr. Detective, the man who lived in his supposed past, from the clothes he wore to the newspapers he read. An interesting character that sure had a story, if only he would let others ask about it.
The miss handed over a mug of steaming tea, tea bag included, and with that, Bells moved on over to her chair. Now Mr. Detective was seated in the opposite direction she was, so this might start to look a little awkward. Anna snuggled into her chair, pulling her legs in close, and placing the small canvas on it for a firm surface. Cautiously, she stole a glance back at Mr. Detective, trying to find a balance for everything, a starting point. He wouldn't notice, and no one else seemed to be paying attention, even the barista was washing mugs and polishing her equipment. If she could keep doing this, there would be no problem at all, she'd get her artwork done in no time!
People were few and far between, many of them looking up at the sky, as if just waiting for the rain to start pouring down. And now that she thought of it, Anna had forgotten an umbrella, something that could be quite useful, especially if she had finished or unfinished artwork with her. That charcoal would smudge and smear like no other if any bit of liquid got on it. But then she wondered, what would water do to a charcoal? Would it look as if the world was melting, falling apart? It might not turn out so bad then, if she had drawn it for that effect.
Scampering into the old, musty coffee shoppe with dusty windows, and rarely a soul inside, outside of the barista and the old man who habitually sat in the back, Mr. Detective, she called him, always reading old newspapers. The older woman greeted her with a familiar smile and wave, and after putting down her bag gently on one of the two plush chairs facing a round coffee table and the dank windows, Belle grabbed her crumpled up dollar bills and coins, headed over to the barista, and ordered her usual: a cup of blueberry tea. While she waited for the lady to boil the water, she leaned up against the wall and looked around. What could she possibly sketch today? Without much adequate light in here, except for a few table lamps, and the cloudy sky not being too much of a help in that sense, it might be a bit more difficult than she had initially imagined. Perhaps she could draw Mr. Detective. He was never really aware of anything past his newspaper, and he had a lamp right next to him, providing excellent shadow and composure. Yes, today would be a day dedicated to Mr. Detective, the man who lived in his supposed past, from the clothes he wore to the newspapers he read. An interesting character that sure had a story, if only he would let others ask about it.
The miss handed over a mug of steaming tea, tea bag included, and with that, Bells moved on over to her chair. Now Mr. Detective was seated in the opposite direction she was, so this might start to look a little awkward. Anna snuggled into her chair, pulling her legs in close, and placing the small canvas on it for a firm surface. Cautiously, she stole a glance back at Mr. Detective, trying to find a balance for everything, a starting point. He wouldn't notice, and no one else seemed to be paying attention, even the barista was washing mugs and polishing her equipment. If she could keep doing this, there would be no problem at all, she'd get her artwork done in no time!
