Her name was Melodie. She was a tall, petite woman. Strange to others but she fascinated me. She was an artist, always drew different things that had nothing to do with each other but it was pure art.she was always drawing the sky, stars & planets, those thing caught her eye.
I love art but was never very good at it like Melodie. I was 16 at the time when i asked her if she could teach me "her ways of art". She had refused the first time.
I tried and tried to prove to her that i was serious about this. Melodie did not see that "spark" in me, as she put it. She said i wasn't trying hard enough to prove myself. One day i dismembered a tree, a dead one and turned it into a sculpture. I didn't see much in but melodie did. I thought to myself, maybe this is why she didnt see that spark, i don't see any meaning in this. Looks like i need a lot more teaching than i thought. She said "it moves me, now i can start my teachings.". I could tell she saw i need alot of help, but i guess she saw that i can do it.
Now we begin. I walk to her house
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