Prologue

A Chapter by Emmett Collins

She finally accepts...

It was trash.

Of course, anything these days falling under the category of "Abstract art" usually was. That's not to say there wasn't a few gems in the pile of junk at museums, but most who affiliate themselves with 'abstract painting' can hardly consider themselves artists.

Unless there is emotion and passion involved, she believed that it cannot be categorized at 'art'.

Nevertheless, she could probably sell this painting for a couple hundred to some rich couple who believed she was the next Andy Warhol. But that's the way art is, isn't it? It's not valuable unless others believe it's valuable.

She wasn't exactly proud of her current situation: so desperate for money she was willing to throw away her pride as an artist just to make a month's rent. Although, she had to admit, it probably wasn't the smartest idea to rent out a studio with enough windows that she should probably be worried about peeping toms. That is, if she didn't live 30 floors off the ground, she should at least worry about getting skin cancer from the amount of sunlight she's been exposed to.

Ever since Eveline realized her foster parents were extorting her for money, she knew she had to get out of there quick.

So naturally, the moment she turned 18 she booked it out of Massachusetts and made her way to San Francisco: the supposed "art capital of the USA".

Yeah, she always felt the uncontrollable urge to punch the guy who gave her this advice whenever the thought intruded in her mind.

News Flash: San Fran is not a place for artists.

For one, the rent was way too expensive.

Seriously, every time she received her bill in the mail she felt that maybe rather than paying for 30 floors to live on top of, she was paying for 30 floors to jump off of.

Secondly, everyone is absurdly interested in artists to paint their portraits. She's not speaking for everybody in the artistic field, but she hated painting actual people.

Fictional characters are fine. Models she will eventually alter the appearance of are fine. Heck even if it is a real person, they must be inspiring. Some of her best works are of old couples, children, or even the homeless living on the street (something that is wretchedly common in that city), but ask her to paint a snooty trophy wife in a family portrait Eveline might accidentally end up painting each of them with devil horns and a mustache.

Which brought Eve to her current problem: inspiration. She seemed to be all out of it lately.

She's definitely had dry spells before, but nothing like this. The creative process wasn't just a faucet one could turn on and off, and she knew that.

It just might be a tad more beneficial to her and to her wallet if she could get back into her usual schedule. Paint, sell, repeat.

Occasionally she might hold a gallery, an auction, or she may even keep her favorites that she absolutely refuses to sell. She might also have an interview every now and then with some large magazines, but nothing truly significant to alter this lifestyle she became accustomed to.

Which brings her back to the dry spell. If it continued on like this, she may have to accept the full scholarship Prattleing Academy offered her. And she did not want that.

Pradding (or Prattleing, as she cleverly refers to it) Academy of Visual Arts is a non-profit institution located in New York for students who are pursuing careers in the visual arts.

It costs approximately 60,000 dollars a year for out of state tuition, and an additional 20,000 dollars for room and board. Kind of suspicious for a 'non-profit institution' right?

Nevertheless, it is probably the most prestigious and well-known Art School in the country, only second to its branch in Paris in the world. The institute has a flawless record of pumping out world-class artists like gumballs and has never had a scandal in its 200 years of existence.

So now the question is: if the school is really that esteemed, why hadn't Eve accepted the scholarship?

It was precisely because the school had an untarnished record that she rejected the offer. It's suspicious, right? Art students were eccentric at best, and insane at the worst, so how did the school keep free from gossip and rumors? Either the professors were unnecessarily strict or a rich kid's parents paid some serious hush money.

Either way, Eve was certain she didn't want to go to a school that housed either of the possibilities.

The school offers one just-out-of-high-school student a full scholarship to the school annually. Naturally, the scholarship is nullified if the student drops out or is expelled somehow.

Of course, everyone in the art industry expected that Eveline was a shoe-in for the spot at Pradding, and everyone thought she would go.

Nobody expected her to reject the offer. It was unheard of. She was perceived as ungrateful and egotistical.

So naturally, the academy offered again this year. It didn't want to be seen as the school that was rejected by the Eveline Monet (since she was an orphan, she could choose her own last name). And because she wasn't taking some poor 17 year old's spot, she told them she'd think about it- just to keep her options open.

So here she is, staring at the hateful piece of scribbles, contemplating whether she should actually accept. Not realizing the phone was ringing, Eve was startled by the beep indicating a voicemail.

"Good morning Miss Monet, I'm just calling to remind you that we still have a spot available just for you at our very prestigious institution of visual arts. This position may not be accessible for some time should you choose to reject our offer...again" the man laughed over the phone awkwardly.

It was then I made my decision. I put the back of my brush to the surface of the canvas, quickly stabbed it in, and shredded up every last stroke of the piece I refuse to call art. After I finished the surprisingly strenuous task, I caught my breath and headed back to the phone. "I'm going to need a studio of my own, all paid for art supplies, and transportation of myself and my art work to New York"

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