Appearences

This was actually written after I completed my intermediate drawing final. If you want to see the photo just ask and I'll gladly share.

    Nails are important. They are the first thing someone looks at when they first meet you. When they first shake your hand. As for me, I think I do my nails about once a week, if not more. I have a trend, or habit, as some would say, about giving myself a French manicure and pedicure right before I ascend. I’m not quite sure why I started or picked up the habit. I suppose I just enjoy the look of how the clean and crisp French tips look against the cool, clear glass of a syringe. That’s the artist in me. Always looking at things through a visual perspective. Even as I’m shooting up and getting that rush of intensity through my veins. It’s just not the same if the clear liquid doesn’t match my nails.
    I also don’t think many have noticed, but there is a reason that my favorite color to put over my eyes is a deep, dark purple. I’m not usually one for make up or primping, other than my nails of course. However, even though others cannot see my reasoning behind the sleeves of my shirts and various jackets, I know. I will always know. The way that I always find a way to wear long sleeves and on lookers think it normal. The way that I precariously hide the same tint of purple and sometimes blue shades on the inside creases of my elbows. That’s what the eye shadow matches, of course. That’s the artist in me. I can’t help it that I love for things to match. For colors to go together simultaneously as one, whether I am the only one aware of it or not.
    Some have told me once or twice that I was a tad pale. What do you think? I don’t believe that just because I tend to “shine” outdoors in sunlight means such a thing. I think that people simply cannot see. They are blind to the beauty that is art. I choose to be the hue I am. I could take my primping to another level and tan naturally or artificially. But what would be the point? I like to look pretty. Not fake. I would know the difference. But hey, that’s just the artist in me I suppose. Forever changing and learning and creating. Even with my own body. That’s my favorite thing to experiment with.
    I forgot to mention my obsession with ink. However, I would like to say that this is one of my few obsessions that I think is accepted in the world today. My skin, my body, it’s an open canvas just waiting to be filled with life. I lost count of exactly how many artists have branded me with their creations. With their master pieces. But I love each and every one of them. Even the tiny one that I did myself on my left knuckle. The smallest of them all, but the closest to my heart. Literally. The only one that truly shows the real artist in me.
    I think the last thing that I somewhat care about would be this mop on my head known as hair to most people. I never know what to do with it honestly. Most of the time I simply throw it up all rugged and messy and just let it do its own thing. I’ve never taken much interest in it myself, but my parental units seems to enjoy it. Its just a simple blonde color mixed with some random high lights and low lights that somehow find their way into my hair when I mistakenly spend too much time in the sun. I don’t do these things on purpose, they just happen. Oh my life. The life of an artist. But I suppose that has been done before has it? An artistic life always seems to be troubled. No matter how rich or famous they become. Dead or alive. My life? Has just one simple purpose.
    To show people the real artist that is within me. Screaming to come forth.

Reviews

[Francis V]

hmmm...

[Raven Held]

I love the urgency in this story, conveyed through the repetition "the artist in me". I would venture to guess it's the narrator's desperate desire to prove herself? I love her whimsical meanderings that gains speed towards the end. Although I think the last few sentences seem a little too disjointed and therefore disrupts the flow. I think if you just went for "My life has just one simple purpose: to show off the artist in me", it might make more of an impact. End with the phrase you've been using throughout the story. But otherwise, it's a wonderful piece of flash fiction.