Art is my (insert word)

Art has become a huge part of my life. It's what I do. It's how I express things that cannot be spoken or explained with words. It's my heart in the paper. It's in my blood spilled in ink poured out upon the canvas. Flights of fancy or hard reality. Joy or sorrow. This may seem slightly macabre to some, but please do not think of it that way. Reality is what it is and it cannot be denied. Art is apart of reality so much that reality begets art! It's funny how moments happen when I draw or write or create something that expresses my heart at that moment. Often quickly followed but lets put this away before no one else sees it! Ah, I am by no means a great artist. I do not have that force of skill that can call forth the images of the mind onto the canvas, but I must slowly peel away the many layers to find what wants to be and not what I would make. There's still a joy to it. A focus that I can reach within the drawing that I find nothing else matters. I have a horrible attention span. It is difficult for me to focus upon anything for long without wandering off to some corner of my mind. When I draw or paint... I can focus. It draws me in like a current. I've looked up to see hours have passed, and all I want to do is turn back to the page and keep working. Art is my hobby. My stress-relief. Art is many things, but most of all. Art is my passion.

Cool Story, Bro

I was sitting in a coffee shop one day, when a friend of mine walks in. He has a big grin on his face like he just won the lottery. I had to laugh because I knew it probably had to do with some girl he had met or talked to or randomly smiled at him as he was walking to who knows where. "Bro!" he said, excited to see me, or rather, more likely anyone with whom he could share his story. "Dude! You'll never believe it man!" I started to reply but he rushed on. "Okay, so you know how it's finals week and everything? Yeah, and remember that one girl I told you about?" As if I paid much attention to it when he told me in the first place, but I decided to allow him his story. I was sitting in a coffee shop alone. Not exactly too-cool-for-you status. "Which girl was this again?" I asked him. "You know! the one that kept smiling at me all semester?"
"Ah. That one."
"Yeah! Well, anyways, I was leaving after the Final for that one class."
"Which?"
"The horrible one. Horrible teacher? I complained all semester about it."
"Oh yeah. That one. What about it?"
"That's the class the girl was in."
"The smiley one."
"Yeah, she's so gorgeous! Anyways, I was leaving class and she said to me."
"Are you going to order?"
"No, she didn't say that. Where would you-"
"I meant, are you going to order a drink?"
"Oh, right... Be right back!"
He ordered his drink and came back to wait for it, continuing his story exactly where he left off.
"So I was leaving class and we just happened to be walking in the same direction..."

****

"You ready to be done with this semester?" She asked him, that smile on her face lighting up as she spoke. "Oh, I've been ready!" He replied, "Especially that class!"
"Tell me about it! I was anxious every time I went to class!"
"You're anxious? She's so feminist I was wrong even when I agreed with her!" He said, and she laughed at this. "Everything you are is wrong!"
"For real! White. Middleclass. Male... I was born wrong!" He shook his head, admiring her smile again.
"Well at least it's over now. What grade did you get?"
"A minus on the last project, I'll probably end up with a B for the class. You?"
"Your orders ready."

****

"What?" My friend asked, intently telling his own story.
"Your coffee is ready. You going to get it?"
"Oh! Hold on!"
"Not going anywhere dude," I said to him wryly, wondering where exactly this story was heading. He got back to the table and went on.
"So I told her what I got and she said she got an A."

****

 "An A. Wow, nice work," He complimented her.

"Thanks. So is this it for the day?" She replied, looking up at him.

"Yeah, I have another final tomorrow but that's it."

"What's your major?" She asked him, curiously.

"Liberal studies. Yeah, I'm getting my teaching credential." 

"Oh that's good, and you-"

"Get summers off. Week for Thanksgiving. A month for Christmas..."

"That's smart!

"So I'm just going to walk in and be like 'Okay kids, I'm here for the summers, just like you. So you don't mess with me, and you all get 'A's. Even you, little Jimmy special in the back there."

"Oh my word!" She said as she was laughing. Her blonde hair tossed artfully over her shoulder. 

"What's your major?" 

"Communications major, like with special cases. I just decided."

"What since you've been talking to me?"

"No! That's not what I meant! You're funny!" She laughed and hit his arm. 

****

"She hit your arm."

"Yeah man! She said 'You're funny' and hit my arm! Oh, and she was totally playing with her hair. Whole time."

"Oh wow, she is totally into you."

"Right?" He said as that sort of rhetorical question that ends up being an exclamation. 

"Go on," I said, my curiosity amused. 

"Man, I was on. I couldn't say anything without her laughing."

 "So why didn't you ask her out?" 

"Yeah, it wouldn't have worked out. Oh hey, gotta go," and with that he walked out.

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This is simply a short story meant to entertain. Any details within the story are purely for the sake of entertainment.