After countless hours of horrendous pleading, Janie’s mother submitted to her own daughter's cries. Moranda, who was nearby, stumbled upon and encountered Janie’s euphoric demeanor, and her mother, who used to have a serene and ethereal complexion and appearance until a certain gremlins nagging pushed her off the edge. She thought this was going to be perpetual over the course of summer break.
The car ride to their destination was as noisy as ever. Janie was overly loquacious and her mother struggled relentlessly to stay as moderate as ever, as for Moranda, she was just present. Janie continuously blabbered about the eminent;renowned artist that she’ll hear about as she never heard about them outside in the general public as customarily. The selected few that did were either Moranda, her relatives, or Rosana and Leona.
Those two, as they often did, premeditated an abundance of overflowing creative crafts, and presented them accordingly to Janie when they first discovered her field of interests. Rosana was always the bubbly and eccentric going, while Leona was clement and easygoing. The two always bombarded her with their own morals and conservative principles that they themselves follow. Albeit, this would generally result in Janie going into her habitual fantasies. It didn’t take long for them to return to reality and for Janie to snap awake to a lecture from Rosana.
A frequent set of brisk turns were proposed and a sudden overshadowing. They arrived, and Janie, overcomed with euphoria, started acting like a reprobate dog.
The museum of art and history was an immense view to unfold. She was immersed in the prolonging inevitable history of art and the significance behind each one. And as she skipped thoroughly between each, her mother was present, fretting, as she began to purposely grip her daughter's collar, trudging alongside her. Moranda’s amused face was opaque knowingly; the only one who could tell was Janie herself.
Janie is an example of why you shouldn’t let your kids indulge into a fixation immensely, or else, your primary bank will cancel your credit card. Janie’s mother learned it the hard way, as her daughter couldn’t coordinate herself and went back and forth between the art and the shop. Ultimately, she stopped to gaze at a pinned up scroll that she was keen on, and her delayed reaction failed to realize that her mother had already disappeared amidst the crowd. Obviously Janie wasn’t too set about her being detached from her own mother and began venturing to search for her. She took quite a few stops, admiring the work from decades ago, then setting off on her search. Evidently, she found her mother and went right back with her shenanigans.
This continued for about a quarter of an hour until Janie’s mother grew tired of the considerable amount of walking that they did, and, as suggested by herself, they sat at the museum cafe.
Janie was the first to sit down, sitting herself at a table for three. Her mother followed, and though she thought to herself it would be more reasonable to sit at a table for two, she disregarded it and convinced herself that Janie was just overly boisterous to even think properly.
In fact, the ghost adjacent to them, sat down too.
One by one, in a hurried manner, Janie’s souvenirs, books, and sketch books flew out of her leather bag and slammed themselves on the table with a loud bang. One would ought to be considerate about the people surrounding them, but as unfazed as Janie was, would that even be necessary? But Janie’s mother was inclined to be insecure of how she brought herself around others, avoiding the eyes that were alerted by the ruckus made by her daughter, and sheltering herself from the judging eyes with a simple but useless tactic of hiding herself with her arms. She felt like a black sheep against societal norms.
Janie’s loud ruckus halted to a stop as her attention got averted to a person amongst the crowd. A transparent but opaque surge of warm colors flushed her face as if she was inspired.
Flipping through pages which felt like eternity, she landed on an empty page, and like she had done many times, began to suffuse the pure whiteness of the page with traces of graphite. And with a cheeky smile like a witch mixing up her concoction she sketched and sketched. Each pencil stroke brought about a reason behind it, shapes unveiled itself, each movement had its reason, infusing together and taking the shape of the boy she targeted as her reference. Janie had been progressively improving over a long period of time. She developed a skill to attune her drawings alongside the colors. Yes, albeit her practice of color palettes and tuning her eyes to capture small hints of intertwining colors, she never mastered it. But with time, and Moranda by her side, she’ll tame it soon.
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Moranda was staring at her. Her prudish demeanor and proper posture leisurely shifted to that of a hunchback.
The two were so immersed in drawing that they didn’t notice the young lady that was speaking to them.
“Excuse me…” said the young lady in a soft voice
“HUH?” Janie yelled like a deaf dad.
The poor young lady was startled by the sudden yelling. Then tortured by her outburst of energy like she was on a sugar rush. She didn’t even get a chance to disclose what she was going to say.
From Janie’s peripheral vision, Moranda’s hand slowly rose up, settling her down with her gesture. Janie cooled her head and allowed the young lady to speak.
“Phew,” she took a breather before she began, “I tried waking up your mother to discuss this but I might as well tell you now.”
Her mother was indeed fast asleep, she was fatigued from the burn out of countless hours of work, it’s best if she continued to catch her sleep. Janie gave the young lady her unsolicited attention, waiting to hear more from her.
“Well, for starters, my name is Sylvia! Nice to meet you.” She said with a polite demeanor and tone.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“You know, I couldn't help but watch you draw so diligently! Which brings me to the topic at hand,” Sylvia cleared her throat, “I'm a museum aide, so I work a lot as a docent and tour kids and stuff, nothing too important, but there’s an art gallery near the museum i work at and they’re running competitions!”
Janie, and Moranda who sadly can’t be seen, both shook their heads in unison, showing their understanding and anticipation.
“I’m off from work and happened to grab my hands on one of the flyers, you can have it. It has all the information about the event. It's really nice, my niece signed up to enter it too!”
Sylvia handed out the flyer for Janie to observe it. The whole situation felt like an alluring opportunity, it felt like her first big step into the world of artists, and her first encounters of the endeavors she’ll face when the time comes. But the inevitable obstacle that stepped her back was the price to enter. It wasn’t much in her opinion, only $50, but it’ll all be in vain if she didn’t succeed past the other artist, more importantly, get accepted to proceed to the next level.
The unbearable contemplation flooded her mind. And with a right occurrence of time, Janie’s mother awoke from her slumber, and in confusion, looked at the situation presented before her. Sylvia introduced herself once again and explained the discussion she just had to Janie’s mother. She nodded in agreement, but under that facade, she was half dazed and could barely comprehend what Sylvia was promulgating.
Janie was still pondering over the announcement of an art competition, it was inconceivable to her still, she couldn’t even begin to imagine all the other works that were to be presented. Moranda was drooling over the open opportunity to see how far artists have come from her time to now.
Janie’s mother snapped their attention, calling Janie to hurry up to go home, and the two hurriedly rushed by her side.
Even on the ride home, Janie still has her mind on the enormity of the proposed opportunity she got introduced to. Abstaining herself from having a thought about it was hard in itself, till Moranda tapped on her shoulder, wanting to speak to her about her decision. Janie whipped out her phone and proceeded to open the notes app to communicate, and for her mother to not worry about her developing schizophrenia.
“So, what are you planning to do?”
Janie tapped away on her phone, ‘I’ll ask my mom, and have her decide. But i wanna do it, it’s already tempting as is.’
Moranda nodded in agreement, “I understand.”
Riding back home from the museum allowed Janie to see many things than she would in her hometown, a variety of shops for many interests and those alike. And as the hours elapsed, the mother and daughter, and a plus one, arrived home, to relax and to potentially talk about the art competition and examine the flyer again.