A Master Minding It's Flowing Hand.

To experiment with writing without purpose I went to a coffee shop, put my headphones on, blasted Circa Survive, drank copious amounts of coffee & let my fingers dance on the keyboard.

From inside of the coffee shop she watched his silver hair glisten in the sun as he made his way towards her. His long curls bounced with every confident step and swayed past his face as the gust of wind entered with him through the door.  He nodded to the clerk and handed over the money. She caught from the corner of her eye colors melting from the painting on top of the couch. The artist's hand flowed as freely as water-first on the canvas and now on the floor. His silver curls grew longer with every catching breathe- soon swimming freely in the ocean of paint that was flooding the shop. His gaze and attention fixated on what wasn't there- the artist.  The artist knew him before he knew her. Every change of direction her brush took mirrored the path he took from the day he was born to the one that led him into the shop. She did not have to meet him to know him, nor did she have to know him to meet him. 

Leaves of red and orange and withering brown suddenly fell from the sky as if an enormous tree as tall as the sun, hovering over the clouds just gave a great shake. A chilling breeze came over the air and froze the paint very still. Very still was the air. Very still were the once flowing colors. Very still was his gaze. Very still was her's. She couldn't move for her feet were cemented to the block of frozen colors-no longer copying the air of freedom. This didn't hinder the growth of his silver hair, now curling around her ankles-still catching glitter the sun offered. 

His hair crawled up her leg like a vine on the side of am old building. As it reached the nape of her neck she didn't feel suffocated- but sheltered, protected. It didn't stop growing until it covered every inch of her body. The sun shone bright as ever now, melting the frozen paint. There seemed to be an endless supply of paint melting off the canvas. The artist must of painted all that she knew and learned about him, all that he had felt his entire life on that canvas. The man with the silver hair, the clerk and the girl knew it and could watch it seep between their fingers. Soon the story told by the artist flooded the room to the ceiling. The girl's body, still wrapped in his sparking hair, swayed with the flows of the artist's emotions. The girl soon understood that the colors, curves and shading of the painting constructed so delicately by the artist told the story of his life. When the two came together, the moment he walked into the door, a combustion was bound to occur. Like an inevitable crash between a wave and the shore. His story trapped in with the confinements of a canvas was naturally let out of it's cage to meet with it's rightful master. 

Flower buds sprouted from the coarse strands of his hair that held tight to her body. As they bloomed she recognized the sweet scent of the familiar flowers. She knew him. She knew him many times. In his gaze was the familiar scent of the blooming flowers, in his gaze was the chill that cemented her to the ground. The colors that melted from the canvas to every empty space around her could be found in his eyes.  The sun that gave her energy to move, breathe, live, was trapped in the strands of his hair. She knew him very well- and he knew her. 

The artist, from wherever she was, smiled. She suddenly felt that somewhere, someone read and understood her strokes. There is no greater love and satisfaction than that of an understood artist. Only she knew whose story she was telling and consequently the chance of the sister and brother of the colors she chose met together in the same room. 

A mastermind lives in the flowing hand of an artist if the master minds it's flowing hand. Let freedom ring.

Author's Note

This is about a artist bringing together two gypsy souls with the sways of color on her painting.

Reviews

[Chance]

Nice work mingling color of imagination and color of inspiration. Thanks for posting!