Before, I hated drawing.
I despised artists; I thought art was a waste of time.
I mean, a “painting” wish some red streaks and splashes becomes famous?
For what, like those red streaks were somewhat very purposeful?
Phshhhhh. Puh’lease. Like it matters.
But now, I can’t stop my pencil from moving about.
From restaurant paper napkins to exam sheets,
everything was covered in hearts.
all kinds of hearts, filled, empty.
It was all because of this one artist that I grew up with,
who taught me, unintentionally, that all people,
all hearts, collectively, individually
are pieces of art
when brought together, makes up the universe.
The first time you took me out
of the city,
out of the “light pollution”, as you call it,
my mouth hung open.
It was a gateway to heaven.
I didn’t move my eyes away from the stars.
I didn’t blink,
for i feared that they would disappear.
But I held your hand, firmly,
and i didn’t have to say it,
but I squeezed your hand,
And for once,
I didn’t have to close my eyes
and wish for you to
be with me.
There was this little boy living near the sea, who was all of 8 years old, with sandy hair and eyes changing into colors of the sea: dark green when he was angry; pale, grey-green when he was calm. He was having his first swimming lessons from his father in the sea when I first noticed him. I wondered how I’d missed noticing him. I’m always looking for new recruits, or rather, ambassadors of Mother Nature, and here is this kid whom I’ve missed for eight years. So, I decided to confront him.
Since water was his first contact with earth, I sent my best fish to talk to him. Any normal kid would’ve been very scared of a talking fish, but instead, this kid happily chatted with him and it honestly shook me. I had one of the worst flares in several millennia. Not only did he chat with him, the kid was so enthusiastic and happy that my fish created a link between all him and all the things he loved, so that he could mentally chat with everyone and everything. This has never happened. It was forbidden, but my fish had broken the rules and had gotten away with it anyway (with the help of the kid).
As the years passed by, all of my colleagues took an opportunity to turn this kid into a kind and compassionate young man. But it didn’t take hard work. He was a natural. Just like the other girl across the planet. The boy had love for Mother Nature in his blood. He was no vegetarian; but that didn’t stop him from loving animals.He chatted with me like we were old buddies. He respected me and often reminded that as harsh as I can be, without me, the Planet couldn’t exist. He helped me lift my spirits up when I was low, which is almost everyday, and also everyone else’s. He also lovingly named my Captain Cloud as Papa Cloud. He went on to becoming a professional surfer in his late teens, found the love of his life, and is now in college. He is quite the adventurer!
Through all these years, all the link that he had with the creatures of Nature, big and small, has suddenly seemed to have vanished. He doesn’t speak to animals, or Water, or Sand, or the Sky, or the Clouds, or the Stars, or even me. But nevertheless, whatever my colleagues and I had taken him through his years of growing up has stayed with him. That’s what’s really important. He’s learned to respect Nature and fight for it, fight for it as if She’s his own, and he’s passed that message down to several other kids. I couldn’t be prouder.