Jump to content

Recommended Posts

Shit.  How can it register 0.1?  There’s nothing on it. Blaze tapped her scale.  It flashed and returned to 0.1.  She turned it off and on.  Still 0.1.  God damn it!  Sitting cross-legged in the middle of her studio, Blaze looked around the room for answers to a question that had none. She had to use texture, not science to complete her acrylic pours.  The feel of the medium was guide, difficult but not impossible.

Blaze grabbed her earbuds.  What kind of day will it be? A positive affirmation day?  Music day?  She scrolled through her phone and pressed music; calm soothing music to drown out the voices buzzing in the distance.  They’re not real.  They’re not real.  

The hum of the voices faded with the first stroke of Pachelbel’s Cannon in D.  Ironically, Pachelbel’s Cannon was polyphonic.  The composition consists of many voices playing the same music entering in sequence, yet there is one independent base voice that rings out over the rest. Blaze wanted her schizophrenia to work like that, a beautiful composition of voices supporting each other, not the negative.  

Blaze took her graded plastic cups and laid them in a line.  She poured one color per cup, black, yellow, white and a light tan.  She poured her flow medium in a one-to-one ratio and stirred.  It rippled off the stirring stick into the pond of paint below it.  Perfect.  Now for the silicone.  Maybe ten drops per cup?  She wanted a lot of cells, so maybe fifteen.  Now comes the fun part.  She layered the colors into the same cup, placed the canvas on top of the mouth of the cup, then turned it upside down.  Each color spread out over the canvas in chaotic patterns.  She heated it with the hairdryer revealing the silicone cells like islands of lucidity in a scene of chaos.  Like Pachelbel’s Cannon, it all came together in a beautiful composition like Blaze strived to be.

Blaze stood up to look at her work.  The perspective was wrong.  She needed to wait until it dried but the pattern will do for now.  She pulled her earphones out of her ears revealing the ring of her phone.  

“Hello?”

“Blaze Delacroix?  This is Thiago Villa from Planke’s Gallery.  We received your proposal for the next exhibition as well as Dr. Coate’s letter of recommendation, so we would like you to come in for an interview.”

“That’s fantastic!  Thank you!”  Blaze paced the floor grinning.

“Yes.  We didn’t think we would be able to offer anyone a showing, but the Planke’s sold off part of the ownership and we thought it would be great to have you as the featured artist when we announce our grand re-opening.”

“Wow!  Everyone must be excited.  Who is the new part owner?”  Blaze quickly opened her portfolio to her proposal.

“That’s the thing.  Whoever it is requested anonymity.  The whole transaction took place through lawyers, but you didn’t hear that from me.”  Thiago laughed.   Blaze could picture him sitting in an office chair, leaning back and giggling like a schoolgirl who just got away with kissing a boy in the coat closet.

“Oh, that’s interesting and mysterious.” Said Blaze.

“Isn’t it though?  Brings the gallery some allure.  Anyway, we are excited about your concept and would love to hear about it in depth. Say tomorrow? Around three?”

“Okay.  I’ll be there with my portfolio and thank you again.”

“Oh no, thank you! When there is an opportunity to support local talent, Planke’s definitely wants to be associated with it.”

Blaze jumped up and down.  She plopped on her bed and sifted through the pages of her portfolio. This one is good.  I’ll take this one because it’s local.  Too bad they all suck.  Blaze started to hum to drown out the voice.  Focus. Focus.  Don’t let your mind wander.  I worked too hard to screw up this chance.

Blaze’s watch reminded her it was time for her jog. She found that keeping active and, on a schedule, helped her schizophrenia tremendously.  After her jog it was home, shower, and her appointment with Dr. Coates.  She needed therapy, not an extension of her parole.  It had been three years since the assault and she had done everything the court had told her to do.  She had a chance to prove it once and for all, no matter what Vivienne Thibodeau threw at her.

Link to post
Share on other sites
  • Replies 2
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

@Cara Cilento I really liked how we dive into the scene. The short, choppy sentences seem to mimic how her schizophrenic brain works to stay on track and focus. 

I like the mystery as to the mysterious donor, the past assault, and her mental illness. You end the scene on the name Vivenne Thibodeau but we have not heard that name yet in the ms - it's hard to know what to make of that name?  Is it a good or a bad person?

I like how the title represents the many sounds in her head and we see that with the music, humming, and sounds in the scene. 

Link to post
Share on other sites
On 6/10/2021 at 8:28 PM, Cara Cilento said:

revealing the silicone cells like islands of lucidity in a scene of chaos.

I'm jealous of that line!

Positive representations of mental health disorders is my kryptonite. I was a little disappointed about the assault reveal, *but* Blaze seems to be on a very good path and that will keep me reading. I'm assuming Vivienne Thibodeau is Blaze's nemesis and maybe has something to do with the assault?

On 6/10/2021 at 8:28 PM, Cara Cilento said:

The hum of the voices faded with the first stroke of Pachelbel’s Cannon in D.  Ironically, Pachelbel’s Cannon was polyphonic.  The composition consists of many voices playing the same music entering in sequence, yet there is one independent base voice that rings out over the rest. Blaze wanted her schizophrenia to work like that, a beautiful composition of voices supporting each other, not the negative.  

 

I absolutely love this. Makes me want to root for her.

 

My only concern is the following paragraph. Which are her primary thoughts and which are the voices? You can probably clear that up with formatting.

On 6/10/2021 at 8:28 PM, Cara Cilento said:

Blaze jumped up and down.  She plopped on her bed and sifted through the pages of her portfolio. This one is good.  I’ll take this one because it’s local.  Too bad they all suck.  Blaze started to hum to drown out the voice.  Focus. Focus.  Don’t let your mind wander.  I worked too hard to screw up this chance.

Good luck with this!

Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.











WTF is Wrong With Stephen King?







An Algonkian Success Story










×
×
  • Create New...