Masterpiece

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: Hmm...well this was a really interesting little gem of a story here....its very wholesome, and just talks of a person continuing his passion from a young age to what I assume is when he's older, having ignored all his detractors and its just a lovely fulfilling piece here.

Anyway let's get right to it,

At a much younger age, the world was his canvas. He ran around the blocks near home with a bundle of grass he had tied to a stick, waving it around in the air. That’s what he had looked like to the other boys on his street, anyway. Crazy. The one who was never interested in chasing after a ball or dancing past one another in fake sword fights on the driveway. To him, though, they were the crazy ones. They couldn’t see his world. In his hand he held his brush, and with it he painted them all. He created the jeering looks he was greeted with every time he stepped outside. The carefully styled hair on the boy next door was his doing, his brush strokes twirling into the glossy meticulous look.

Now, though, now is different. Now his apartment is what his world once was. He races around the room with dozens of brushes, some the size of his hand and some smaller than a blade of grass. Palettes litter the floor like colorful lily pads, with him as the frog. In some places he slathers the surface in black, making way for a new galaxy in his universe of color. In others he dips a brush in purple and slings it at the wall, and then again in green and blue and yellow and everything he has until he’s standing in front of one giant, dripping, crisscrossing, beautiful mess. Then, he’s across the room with the smallest brush he can find; adding curvature to the nose of the most stunning woman art has ever given life to.

He paints more than gorgeous women, stars, and abstract swirls of color. He paints his emotions. He gives life to himself now, like he gave life to those boys on his street as he painted his own world. As he throws the globs of color at the wall, his face contorts. The eyebrows furrow and the jaw locks. The usual soft contours harden, and the playful diamond glimmer in his eyes dulls to a look of tarnished steel. As he finishes and moves across the room to the woman, the stiffness in his gait loosens and he forces himself to release the brush from his still angrily clenched fist. It clatters to the concrete floor, stabbing the silence as a knife might.

He takes a small brush from the ground and pulls a palette from a nearby stool. His arm jerks back and forth as he defines the sharp angles of the cheekbones. Gradually he comes to a stop, drops the brush, and reaches up to the top of the woman’s head. He traces the flow of her hair, and as his hand passes her ear his eyes come alive. He caresses her shoulder and relaxes his own. He comes to the end, right at her elbow, and presses his hand down firmly on the wall—and then a smile, ever so slight, graces the masterpiece that is him.

Sorry if this isn't a great review, as this is my first review.

This is a really interesting story. I love how powerful your writing was. Even though it was short, it drew me into this world, and want to hug the protagonist. The transition from childhood to adulthood was also really well done. You've painted an excellent picture about how even though the world has changed a lot for the protagonist, he is still doing what he loves, and you have shown us that the protagonist is painting from his soul. The description really makes this world come time life.

I can't wait to read more from you,
~a

Your work is very descriptive and you created some beautiful images in this piece. My favorite was "the playful diamond glimmer in his eyes dulls to a look of tarnished steel." I like how you use nouns. It is more interesting than simple adjectives.

I like the shift in tense from childhood to adulthood. It gives a sense of nostalgia.

Your sentence structure also contributes to the feel of the piece. When you list images it gives the sense of breathlessness, like in the line "In others he dips a brush in purple and slings it at the wall, and then again in green and blue and yellow and everything he has until he’s standing in front of one giant, dripping, crisscrossing, beautiful mess." But be careful not to have too many long sentences in a row. Sometimes you follow them up with a short, simple sentence and it gives a nice balance.

Your use of commas is also very cool. They create these pauses like in the line where you write "Gradually he comes to a stop, drops the brush, and reaches up to the top of the woman’s head."

There is one comma I'm not sure you need. "That’s what he had looked like to the other boys on his street, anyway." The comma after street is the one I am not sure about. It interrupts the sentence for no reason I can see.

Overall, this is an excellent piece. I think you captured that frantic, chaotic feeling of being an artist. I like how in his childhood, you show how he sees the world, but as an adult you see how he has withdrawn to create his world. It was a pleasure to read!

This is very well written, nitpicks aside. I really like the way you describe his "world".

"...colorful lily pads, with him as the frog." I feel as though the "with him as the frog" should be changed as, to me, it's read awkwardly. Perhaps something like, "...and he was the frog." But that's just me, I suppose someone else might have a different opinion.

Really nicely done. Seeing as how late/early it is, I apologize for not being able to write a better review.
~Bastion

"The carefully styled hair on the boy next door was his doing, his brush strokes twirling into the glossy meticulous look."

- This would be better connected with a semi-colon.

"The carefully styled hair on the boy next door was his doing; his brush strokes twirling into the glossy meticulous look."

As above.

I like the idea of the piece however. I feel the neglect he receives from others. I also liked the visualizations you used throughout, however, it would be stronger if you incorporated more adjectives.