Colorful Words
Last Wednesday I wrote a "Self-Portrait." This week the prompt was "Colorful." Since I have a bit of an artist's spirit, the inspiration for this short story came from my love of the Fantasia movies by Disney. What if with some music, a touch of magic and the light of a full moon a blank canvas could become something more? Enjoy this "Colorful" story and be sure to check in next Wednesday for a "Close-Up" story.
Colorful
Silence filled the darkened room. Silvery moonlight streamed through the windows, casting everything in a bluish glow. Half-finished paintings and sketches littered the studio, catching a few moonbeams. But only the blank canvas, a luminous square of white, was bathed fully in the milky glow of night.
From somewhere deep in the studio a violin began to play. The melody was quiet and timid as though unsure of itself. A single paintbrush rose from the artist’s work desk. It swirled through the air, dancing to the plaintive song of the violin. Upon reaching a tub of blue paint, it dipped its feathery brown bristles in and then twirled to the blank canvas. One stroke and then two, timid and slow like the violin. A dance of blue on a snowy background.
As though gaining strength from the single paintbrush, the violin’s magical melody grew brighter. Another paintbrush rose from the desk as a flute joined the violin. Dipping into a tub of emerald green, the paintbrush danced to the canvas leaping and twirling about the ribbons of sapphire. The two paintbrushes danced together about the canvas, their paths intertwining in turquoise, teal and sea foam. Jade here and aquamarine there, a blending of colors into something new.
The deep voice of a cello joined the song and woke a new paintbrush to life. Dipped in violet, the paintbrush joined the others. Amethyst ribbons waltzed across the canvas, every now and again twirling with the blue paintbrush creating the sleepy colors of twilight. Periwinkle and lavender, indigo and eggplant.
Tranquility washed over the room as the three paintbrushes continued their quiet dance on the canvas. Suddenly a light switched on in the studio bathing the canvas in warm, brilliant light. For a moment, there was silence as though the studio was holding its breath.
Then a guitar strummed and a paintbrush dipped in yellow tapped onto the canvas. Where it met with yellow, chartreuse and lime splashed onto the canvas. For a while the other paintbrushes stayed still, seeming to star at the flashy newcomer. Then slowly they joined it back on the canvas. The yellow paintbrush twirled in a sunny circle before moving back with the others, brightening the green ribbons of color and contrasting with the violet.
A trumpet blared and an orange tipped paintbrush flashed to the canvas. Staccato steps of orange mingled with yellow in a fiery dance of tangerine and gold, lemon and tulip. The pace quickened and the paintbrushes continued a frenzied dance together. The colors flashed more boldly a warm contrast against the cool backdrop of before. The once white canvas grew more colorful and bright with each passing moment.
Soon the rhythm of drums woke the final paintbrush. Dipped in ruby red paint, it swirled into action, making bold strokes on the canvas. Magenta, vermillion and crimson appeared as the paintbrush danced with first violet and the orange. Like a flamenco dancer it twirled and stepped, the rhythm of the drums keeping time with it.
Outside the window dawn was breaking. The darkness of night melted into a symphony of color mimicking the once blank canvas. The music slowed and then came to a sop as the paintbrushes swirled in a cup of water, removing the paint from their brown heads. They returned to the work desk, admiring their work as sleep took them. In brilliant hues a sunset over a field of wildflowers showed on the canvas. The steps and twirls, strokes and taps had become a magical dance of color.
As the sun climbed higher, the colors faded from the canvas, slowly dripping away until it was once again clean and white. Birds chirped as the artist opened the studio door. “I had the strangest dream last night,” she said aloud as she turned on some music. “I dreamed that all my brushes came to life to paint a magnificent sunrise with a flowery field. Now I finally know what is in this canvas.” She regarded the blank canvas for a moment before gathering her brushes and paints. “Now to make that vision a reality.”
As the gentle voice of a violin filled the studio, she dipped the feathery brown bristles of a paintbrush into the blue paint. With ribbons of sapphire the dance resumed on the milky white canvas.
Colorful
Silence filled the darkened room. Silvery moonlight streamed through the windows, casting everything in a bluish glow. Half-finished paintings and sketches littered the studio, catching a few moonbeams. But only the blank canvas, a luminous square of white, was bathed fully in the milky glow of night.
From somewhere deep in the studio a violin began to play. The melody was quiet and timid as though unsure of itself. A single paintbrush rose from the artist’s work desk. It swirled through the air, dancing to the plaintive song of the violin. Upon reaching a tub of blue paint, it dipped its feathery brown bristles in and then twirled to the blank canvas. One stroke and then two, timid and slow like the violin. A dance of blue on a snowy background.
As though gaining strength from the single paintbrush, the violin’s magical melody grew brighter. Another paintbrush rose from the desk as a flute joined the violin. Dipping into a tub of emerald green, the paintbrush danced to the canvas leaping and twirling about the ribbons of sapphire. The two paintbrushes danced together about the canvas, their paths intertwining in turquoise, teal and sea foam. Jade here and aquamarine there, a blending of colors into something new.
The deep voice of a cello joined the song and woke a new paintbrush to life. Dipped in violet, the paintbrush joined the others. Amethyst ribbons waltzed across the canvas, every now and again twirling with the blue paintbrush creating the sleepy colors of twilight. Periwinkle and lavender, indigo and eggplant.
Tranquility washed over the room as the three paintbrushes continued their quiet dance on the canvas. Suddenly a light switched on in the studio bathing the canvas in warm, brilliant light. For a moment, there was silence as though the studio was holding its breath.
Then a guitar strummed and a paintbrush dipped in yellow tapped onto the canvas. Where it met with yellow, chartreuse and lime splashed onto the canvas. For a while the other paintbrushes stayed still, seeming to star at the flashy newcomer. Then slowly they joined it back on the canvas. The yellow paintbrush twirled in a sunny circle before moving back with the others, brightening the green ribbons of color and contrasting with the violet.
A trumpet blared and an orange tipped paintbrush flashed to the canvas. Staccato steps of orange mingled with yellow in a fiery dance of tangerine and gold, lemon and tulip. The pace quickened and the paintbrushes continued a frenzied dance together. The colors flashed more boldly a warm contrast against the cool backdrop of before. The once white canvas grew more colorful and bright with each passing moment.
Soon the rhythm of drums woke the final paintbrush. Dipped in ruby red paint, it swirled into action, making bold strokes on the canvas. Magenta, vermillion and crimson appeared as the paintbrush danced with first violet and the orange. Like a flamenco dancer it twirled and stepped, the rhythm of the drums keeping time with it.
Outside the window dawn was breaking. The darkness of night melted into a symphony of color mimicking the once blank canvas. The music slowed and then came to a sop as the paintbrushes swirled in a cup of water, removing the paint from their brown heads. They returned to the work desk, admiring their work as sleep took them. In brilliant hues a sunset over a field of wildflowers showed on the canvas. The steps and twirls, strokes and taps had become a magical dance of color.
As the sun climbed higher, the colors faded from the canvas, slowly dripping away until it was once again clean and white. Birds chirped as the artist opened the studio door. “I had the strangest dream last night,” she said aloud as she turned on some music. “I dreamed that all my brushes came to life to paint a magnificent sunrise with a flowery field. Now I finally know what is in this canvas.” She regarded the blank canvas for a moment before gathering her brushes and paints. “Now to make that vision a reality.”
As the gentle voice of a violin filled the studio, she dipped the feathery brown bristles of a paintbrush into the blue paint. With ribbons of sapphire the dance resumed on the milky white canvas.
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