She is an artist.
So, firstly I want you to know that I love to write. Mostly fictions, like teen-fiction, fantasy, and sci-fi. But sometimes, I don’t write the whole story, but just kinda scenes that pop into my head. And this post is one of them, the unfinished story, and I just think that maybe I’ll write another post similliar with this, so, I hope you guys will enjoy this! 🙂
She is an artist.
She can dance, and sing along songs i have never heard
She likes drawing. I saw her draw people and sometimes buildings. Things that probably never gonna pop out on somebody’s mind. Things forgotten by the time. Things she paint on her notebook and color them with bright tune.
From first day I met her, I know something is different from the girl. She could talk about anything, but still could be who she is.
We can talk about a boy who sing in the street, why anchor has to be shaped that way, which team who is going to win, or even why we keep walking while we can take bus.
And then we laugh.
And I like the way she laugh.
One day she asked me to have lunch. I thought she would bring me to her favourite cafe, but her car was not going to any restaurant. She turned the car radio and sang along with any song played. Her finger pointed the clear sky, and then smiled seeing how sunny day it was. She handed me her camera, asked me to take pictures of anything we passed. Buildings, clouds, parked bicycles, anything.
She told me about a photo of a hotdog seller in her camera gallery. It just load the seller and his cart, with an usual street view. That simple. I didn’t really like it the first time i saw it. The photo must be taken while the sun shine really bright so she could have the smooth shade of the hotdog seller.
But she told me it’s not about the lighting. She took the photo because she just got an A on her test, and because of that, she brought a sandwich from the hotdog seller. A hotdog as a reward for the test, and a simple photograph as a memory. She doesn’t always capture things when the lighting was just right, she clicked the button when she sees a story of things. Stories she wants to keep in a photograph as a memory.
“Tomorrow, I’ll print one of the photos you took. It will reminds me of today,” she said as drove her car through the highway.
It was a sunny day, and she brought me outside the city. Her car stopped in a vast field in the side of highways, and i was startled about the place. How can she knew about this place?
She took me on a walk on a hill, then run to a big tree on the top. We played some tongue twister words, shared some slice of our lifestory, laughing each other’s jokes, and ate the food she brought. We were having a good time.
She took her phone and played a song on her playlist. While I watched her stood and wait for the song’s beat, locked my eyes on her when she started to dance.
I wish I can push a button in that time. I want to remember the way she dance arround the tree, the way her hair fall, the way her hands up to the air as the wind blow. I want to remember the moments of us. I want picture her on my mind.
And as she laughed with me under the shade of a tree in a sunny day;
I knew I fall on her.