I'm a 25 years old guy and I'm an artist who work online, but it's really just because that sound better than unemployed. I'm sure a lot of you know how hard it is for an independent entrepreneur out there.
No matter how good you are, you're going to see someone way better than you, but still can't make a good career out of it, also no matter how good you're there's always that someone that would make a fortune from being worse. Well I'll say it just comes down to being in the right place and connecting with the right people.
Living in Los Angeles, a good place you can find arts, but I've always been an introvert. Like if someone is knocking on my door, I'll lie really quietly on the ground and wait for them to go away. I find it so hard to go hang out with people I do know. Attending the parties & social gathering which helps in career development is just impossible for me.
Anyways my only friend is Helena. She's cool and totally understands me. She is a fun person with a lot of connections, we met through social media and that vibe kept going. I'm pretty sure she has feelings for me and I don't want something to happen, which will ruin my only friendship. These would teach me to get close with another human being for once and something could work between us.
"Thinking out loud" is one way I can describe my feeling, which blowing a hole through one side and out the other to splatter on the far wall would be better. My art was divinely inspired, invincible, debonair, and my future success inevitable.
Helena has always wanted me to give her a tattoo, so we decided that it would be the best, beautiful and colorful. If you're cringing right now, I understand. To a sober person, it sounds like a terrible idea. But I was swimming through an ocean of blood and color and the soft music playing in my ear.
The needle of the tattoo gun danced an intricate ballet across her back which wasn't so much seen as experience in it's own dimension. I was the ink in her skin, pulling veins of light straight from the air to imbue into my creation.
Through I've been drawing my whole life, but this was the first piece of art, which looks alive, filled with perfection. We admired it again and Damn. Helena was wearing a picture of an ancient red dragon being condensed into the soul of a solitary human.
The beauty that I felt was inseparable and the same, neither of us could look upon the masterpiece on his skin without tears in our eyes. Helena had been showing off my tattoo all day long and she had some big news for me. Richard Jones, The CEO of RJ Arts, one of LA world's most renown art galleries, had seen my tattoo and he desperately needed a new piece by tomorrow morning.
Tomorrow morning! How possible? But how in the world was I going to have something ready by then? He'd seen the best I can do, and nothing else in my portfolio even came close. But I was this close and I wasn't going to give up now. Helena had always been so good to me, the least I could do, no the only thing I could do, was to thank her with sex.
Yes! I know she wanted it, judging by the way she looks at me. It wasn't about our friendship anymore, or her feelings. It was about my art. I waited until she fell asleep, Nuzzled against my naked body, when I gave her the only thing I had to give. I slipped out of the bed without waking and without making any noise. That's good, after all we're done, I wouldn't want her to be awake for this part.
It's was so surprising how easy a pen knife cuts. It almost felt like using her blood to make a dark painting. It was fitting for her to go this way, since she was my masterpiece. Cutting the tattoo off her back was a little messier than I expected, but that was just because I cut deeper than I really needed to. I couldn't take the risk of damaging the tattoo.
Soon, I'll be going down to the gallery with my pride. Thank you Helena.