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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 – Advanced)
Topic: Sad (07/26/07)

TITLE: Watercolour Tears
By Ann Grover
08/02/07


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Eleanor touched her brush to her painting, adding the final touches to elegant spires of crimson hollyhocks. The blooms seemed almost real, rising above a stone walk lined with cheery-faced pansies and jaunty columbine.

Swishing the brush in the water cup, Eleanor contemplated what to paint next. The fence? She blended white with grey and stroked, until pickets stood in a row at the front edge of the riotously coloured garden. She retouched the shutters of the upper windows of the house, carefully shadowing the louvered slats. A bedroom here, she thought, and this one shall be the nursery.

A smile settled on her lips, and she breathed in deeply as she leaned back. She hummed a soft tune, a lullaby maybe, then fell silent.

The baby lived only a few days. A heart problem, the doctor said. He didn’t suffer. You’re young. You’ll have another child. The young couple knew that, but it didn’t comfort their aching hearts or fill their empty arms.

Eleanor leaned forward, frowning, and quickly painted over the window, filling it in with a drawn blind. The window appeared smudged, dirty. Eleanor looked away for a time, shedding silent tears, and while waiting for them to dry, added a small tree to the corner of the yard.

In the background, she added high clouds in a perfect, blue sky being swept along by a light wind. With long, curling strokes, she added vines to the corner of the house. A touch of whimsey.

”A girl, Eleanor! Look at her! A princess. Why are you crying? Ah, love, it’s all right, she’s perfect. Everything’ll be okay.” And it was. The girl was a princess, all right. Demanding and spoiled and perfect. Ever so perfect.

Eleanor loaded her brush with brown paint and began to paint in the trunk of a tree behind the small tree. Before long, she had large limbed oak, complete with swing beneath its leafy bower.

”Mom, can you push?” Then the children were grown. The swing was silent and still.

Loading the brush with brilliant vermillion and a touch of fuschia, Eleanor dabbed roses around an arbour at the front gate. Glorious Ramblers they were. Then she twined leaves and stems around the support. She painted in hydrangeas, daisies, geraniums, petunias, and impatiens.

The bride and groom had planned an outdoor wedding. “Mom, please could you have roses around the gate? And the front garden in full bloom? With all our favourites?” And she’d had done her best to make sure the outdoor garden wedding was everything her little girl dreamed it would be.

Eleanor pushed a greying tendril of hair from her eyes. She leaned back, and with a loose hand, sketched in a rocker on the front porch of the house. Then, squinting, she sat forward. Was the paint on the side of the house peeling?

”Let’s sit on the porch for a while, George. The nights are beginning to draw in quickly. Won’t be too many more evenings like this. Isn’t it lovely? George? George?”

Eleanor’s hand trembled a little as she painted a black wreath on the door. She painted black ribbons around the posts on each side of the steps. A tear slid down each of Eleanor’s deeply lined cheeks.

Eleanor’s shoulder hurt and she rested for a moment. She closed her eyes and imagined what to add to her painting next. Maybe a bird? Or a butterfly? She slept for a bit.

And the paintbrush dropped from her gnarled fingers.


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This article has been read 907 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Sandra Petersen 08/02/07
As your MC painted, it was as if I was looking over her shoulder 'seeing' every brush stroke. Gorgeous description!

I did get a little confused in places. At first, I thought the baby in the fourth paragraph was the artist's own. At the very end, I was not certain if she had merely fallen asleep or had died.

But, overall, I thought this story flowed exceptionally well.
Teri Wilson08/02/07
Oh my, this is fabulous. I was completely sucked in from the beginning. Great, great job. Love and blessings, Teri
Dara Sorensen08/02/07
It's as if I was there through those moments in her life.

Well done! ^_^
Verna Cole Mitchell 08/02/07
This is a wonderful story told through the eyes of an artist.
Kristen Hester08/02/07
Wow! This is beautiful. I felt the quiet sadness. Great job.
Joanne Sher 08/03/07
Absolutely captivating and wonderful and masterful and every other synonym for excellent. Just gorgeous. My heart was with this woman from beginning to end. Perfect.
Verna Cole Mitchell 08/03/07
I really like how you "painted" you MC's life story.
Lynda Schultz 08/03/07
Beautiful, You painted the picture with words with the same grace and passion as your MC painted her life story. Good work.
Dee Yoder 08/04/07
An artist's view of a long lived life. It was like watching a movie as the artist painted. Very unusual and vivid.
valerie chambers08/04/07
Captivating!You had me from beginning to end.
Janice Fitzpatrick08/04/07
Oh, how beautiful and descriptive. I love this. Very poignant and moving as life is painted through the narrators strokes. Very well done! God bless. Keep up the writing. Janice
Jan Ackerson 08/05/07
Wonderful use of symbolism, and descriptive language without adjective abuse. Incredible for a rushed entry, and evidence of your incredible gift.
william price08/05/07
I love the use of painting/art as a vehicle for delivering a story. You presnted your message masterfully, as always. Not overdone, just right. Impressed as always. God bless.
Caitlynn Lowe08/08/07
A wonderful way of illustrating the events of your MC's life. Nicely done!
Sara Harricharan 08/08/07
Masterful indeed. This captures the very essence of sadness here. I hope you do well. Great job.
Loren T. Lowery08/08/07
Absolutely love this style of writing and you've done it so, so well! I could "picture" everything, including the emotions. Yes, masterfully done!
Betty Castleberry08/08/07
So uniquely and wonderfully done. I could see the painting clearly. Very good work.
Janice Cartwright08/10/07
I don't think I've ever read anything exactly like this. I could see each stroke as the painting grew under the 'artist's' hand. Writing and painting are so similar - what a wonderful idea to join the two in a unique masterpiece!