"oh, how I miss the days when I could paint." Leon whispered to himself
He sat in his old studio going through his things, his art supplies had already been gathering dust. The canvas in the middle of the studio was blank, and the whole place was a mess, in the corner lay a box with some old pencils, paintbrushes whose bristles had hardened with dried paint, and lots and lots of scattered paper. He had come to clear out the once vibrant studio to make space in his home for something new, but he found it difficult to follow through. So he just sat there on the wooden stool reminiscing about his golden years.
He had been painting since he was a wee little kid. He couldn't remember when exactly he started, but he remembered he had a friend called James who he'd always compete with for who was the better painter. James was better than him at the time, and he knew it, but he'd never admit it. They painted everything that could be painted and would show their friends to judge who was better.
He and James weren't together for too long however as they parted ways when James had to move to another country. James was gone but his ability to paint didn't disappear. He had a short dry spell, however, but he was back in the painting game very quickly.
Leon picked up the box in the corner and started going through its content. He removed the pencils, and the paintbrushes, and was looking through some of his old paintings. That was when he stumbled upon a very familiar painting
"Lisa" he mumbled
He was in a much better place now, but looking at the painting still left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Lisa was one of the reasons he'd stopped painting all those years. When he was at the top of his painting game, He met Lisa at an art gallery and they hit it off almost immediately. He was an artist, she was an art lover, a match made in heaven. He made so many pieces for her and about her you could open two louvres and there'd still be some art left over. He loved her so much and it seemed she loved him just as much, until she didn't. The fallout was so sudden and unexpected that it broke him. He'd gotten so used to painting for her he didn't want to paint anymore. He tried one piece of a random woman, but it looked too much like her and he broke down in tears afterwards. He decided it was better he distanced himself from the art for a while and he never came back.
Now here he was, after many years, he was staring at his very last painting.
"I am healed now" he said to himself as he started gathering the old supplies.
He dipped the paintbrushes in warm water mixed with gentle soap, scrubbed the palate with a wet clothe, cleaned the caps of the paint tubes, and then dusted the easel and the canvas. He was ready to paint again.
"It's been so long, what if I mess it up."
"Can I still do this?"
"Why not just get rid of the supplies and find a new hobby."
Those were the thoughts that raced through Leon's bald head. But he ignored them and stood in front of the canvas ready to paint.
"What do I paint?"
He looked out the window and in that moment he caught sight of a blue bird perched up on the tree.
"She's beautiful, this is destiny I presume." He whispered to himself as he dipped in brush in paint.
As his first stroke swept across the canvas, a shiver ran through him. It had been so long. He took another stroke, then another then another, at first his hands were shaking but he soon found a rhythm. Soon it was no longer a task, it was just as easy as drawing breathe. It felt like he'd been holding his breathe all these years and finally decided to breathe.
When he finally stepped back from the canvas he was marvelled by his own creation. A tear dropped down his cheek.
"I hadn't lost my gift, it had been laying dormant, waiting for me to remember"
Cover image generated using Leonardo Ai
