06-15-2020, 04:05 PM
Liv's hand was hesitant, at first. Holding the pencil this way felt...odd. And yet it also felt familiar. Her fingertips pressed and released, pads gripping slightly, as she began roughly, tracing the outline. Outlines were important. A fuzzy vision, forgiving and hazy. For a time, Liv concentrated on the positioning, the background, crude lines and shapes, light and suggestive. rather than set and immutable.
Over time the details would become more visible, the contrasts and similarities. A reality that started to manifest itself.
And so Liv had focused on the outline of Nika's form, had concentrated on the building behind her as she spoke. Gradually, as the woman spoke, Liv noticed patterns, they way her eyes rested when in thought or in memory, the way she held her mouth in repose, her resting face, only to be punctuated by life and animation, sparkling eyes, gesturing hands, dimples in her wide inviting smile.
Somehow, a stroke here, a touch there, she began to see Nika emerge from the paper.
Her words helped, voice washing over her and sweeping her up, freeing her from her thoughts, from questions and second guesses. In her mind she saw the women of that village, saw their courage, their sacrifice. Part of her was in awe. The other was horrified at the cost- the bleach to the eyes, the loss of the tongue. The cruelty the world sometimes imposed on those who just wanted a normal life free of suffering.
Nika had thought of her. She couldn't help but wonder why. The part of her that was moved with appreciation saw it as something positive. But the extremes, the lengths they'd gone to...
Her hand stopped at the question. "I do," she said quietly. She did, too. Did want to date Nika She liked her. But there was a hint of fear at the subject. Passion. So wonderful a feeling. But an excuse too. 'I’m sorry, hun. I just love you soooo much. It makes me crazy. I’m sorry babe. Forgive me. I didn't mean to. You just have to know that sometimes I can't control myself....' And she'd want to believe. That was the scariest part.
Her hand shook for a moment before she got a hold of herself. The drawing was mostly done. There was more to do. But Liv felt paralyzed.
This was it. Nika would look. And she was terrified of the response.
Over time the details would become more visible, the contrasts and similarities. A reality that started to manifest itself.
And so Liv had focused on the outline of Nika's form, had concentrated on the building behind her as she spoke. Gradually, as the woman spoke, Liv noticed patterns, they way her eyes rested when in thought or in memory, the way she held her mouth in repose, her resting face, only to be punctuated by life and animation, sparkling eyes, gesturing hands, dimples in her wide inviting smile.
Somehow, a stroke here, a touch there, she began to see Nika emerge from the paper.
Her words helped, voice washing over her and sweeping her up, freeing her from her thoughts, from questions and second guesses. In her mind she saw the women of that village, saw their courage, their sacrifice. Part of her was in awe. The other was horrified at the cost- the bleach to the eyes, the loss of the tongue. The cruelty the world sometimes imposed on those who just wanted a normal life free of suffering.
Nika had thought of her. She couldn't help but wonder why. The part of her that was moved with appreciation saw it as something positive. But the extremes, the lengths they'd gone to...
Her hand stopped at the question. "I do," she said quietly. She did, too. Did want to date Nika She liked her. But there was a hint of fear at the subject. Passion. So wonderful a feeling. But an excuse too. 'I’m sorry, hun. I just love you soooo much. It makes me crazy. I’m sorry babe. Forgive me. I didn't mean to. You just have to know that sometimes I can't control myself....' And she'd want to believe. That was the scariest part.
Her hand shook for a moment before she got a hold of herself. The drawing was mostly done. There was more to do. But Liv felt paralyzed.
This was it. Nika would look. And she was terrified of the response.