forward.
“Hi,” she said, approaching cautiously. Why was he back again today?
Because art is in his blood, he just doesn’t see it yet. And he likes you
. I grinned.
“How’d they do this?” he asked, without looking directly at her.
A common question that no one really wanted details about. “Bunch of different kinds of paints. Layered. Blown through various diameter pipes and straws.” Vivian shrugged before she gave herself away.
“Really?” Leif frowned, as if he was thinking about arguing.
Great, Leif, you sound like she’s making stuff up and you don’t believe her. Way to woo a girl
. I wanted to smack his shoulder, but settled for rolling my eyes. At least thinking I did.
Since it was her work, Vivian felt very comfortable answering him with a smile and incredulous expression. “Really.”
“Oh, sorry, that sounded rude, didn’t it?” Leif rubbed his knuckles. “I’ve just never seen anything like it. I wanna do that.” He pointed.
“That’s, um, difficult to do—” Vivian broke off. How was she going to explain the years it took to master these techniques? She didn’t want to discourage him, but he wouldn’t off the bat be able to paint portraits full of mini pictures—definitely not with blowing. Maybe on the computer with Photoshop.
And plagiarism
.
“I don’t m-mean … obviously … I m-mean,” Leif stuttered. He stopped staring up at the picture, then focused his gaze on his hands while blood crept up his neck. Finally, he made eye contact before his gaze flitted away from hers. He was a doofus when he got nervous. She seemed to like it, though. I didn’t understand why Vivian’s heart continued to tizzy and surge, but whatever. “Can you show me what to do? I mean, what do I use to, uh, ‘blow,’ you said?” His face flushed.
These two spend more time blushing than talking
.
“Now?” Vivian expected him to lose interest and move on. Go back to the gym instead.
“Yeah, can you?” His face lit up.
“Sure.” Part of her job was demonstrating and helping customers with their work, she did this all the time for others. Why did showing Leif seem more intimate and personal? “We’ll start easy.”
She headed toward the back of the studio space. Several painters worked with music blaring only in their ears, otherschatted with each other. This wasn’t the place to work as a loner who didn’t like people.
Leif followed. “Do you, uh, blow?”
Good god, Leif
.
“Paint, blow paint,” he corrected, but Vivian didn’t even acknowledge the double entendre of his words.
Girl needs to watch some Showtime. Mistake #1 for Jessica Chai—thinking there’d always be a next time
.
“Yeah, I know the technique.” She stopped at that.
Why? Tell him that’s yours up there on that wall! Tell him people pay you thousands of dollars to blow. Please? I want to see his expression
.
“Cool.” Leif nodded.
In instructor mode, Vivian commandeered a workstation. “We’ll start with scrap paper and watercolors. It’ll give you a feel.”
“Sure … sure,” Leif answered.
Vivian prepared paints and straws while Leif wandered, observing the other artists. She and Leif obviously struggled for conversational topics any time they were within each other’s range. When she was ready, she motioned him over. “The key is to really just play with how hard you exhale and point the straw in the direction you want the medium to go. Don’t inhale the paint.”
“Can you show me?” Leif looked like a lost little boy.
“Yeah.” Vivian demonstrated several times, making it look astoundingly easy.
“You’re really good at this.” Leif was impressed.
Cassidy heard him and cracked up as she went by, carrying fresh canvases.
“What?” Leif frowned. “What’d I miss?”
Vivian shook her head, trying to get Cassidy’s attention.
“That’s her painting.” Cassidy pointed at the lady’s portrait. “Oh, so is that one. And that one just sold to a guy in
“Hi,” she said, approaching cautiously. Why was he back again today?
Because art is in his blood, he just doesn’t see it yet. And he likes you
. I grinned.
“How’d they do this?” he asked, without looking directly at her.
A common question that no one really wanted details about. “Bunch of different kinds of paints. Layered. Blown through various diameter pipes and straws.” Vivian shrugged before she gave herself away.
“Really?” Leif frowned, as if he was thinking about arguing.
Great, Leif, you sound like she’s making stuff up and you don’t believe her. Way to woo a girl
. I wanted to smack his shoulder, but settled for rolling my eyes. At least thinking I did.
Since it was her work, Vivian felt very comfortable answering him with a smile and incredulous expression. “Really.”
“Oh, sorry, that sounded rude, didn’t it?” Leif rubbed his knuckles. “I’ve just never seen anything like it. I wanna do that.” He pointed.
“That’s, um, difficult to do—” Vivian broke off. How was she going to explain the years it took to master these techniques? She didn’t want to discourage him, but he wouldn’t off the bat be able to paint portraits full of mini pictures—definitely not with blowing. Maybe on the computer with Photoshop.
And plagiarism
.
“I don’t m-mean … obviously … I m-mean,” Leif stuttered. He stopped staring up at the picture, then focused his gaze on his hands while blood crept up his neck. Finally, he made eye contact before his gaze flitted away from hers. He was a doofus when he got nervous. She seemed to like it, though. I didn’t understand why Vivian’s heart continued to tizzy and surge, but whatever. “Can you show me what to do? I mean, what do I use to, uh, ‘blow,’ you said?” His face flushed.
These two spend more time blushing than talking
.
“Now?” Vivian expected him to lose interest and move on. Go back to the gym instead.
“Yeah, can you?” His face lit up.
“Sure.” Part of her job was demonstrating and helping customers with their work, she did this all the time for others. Why did showing Leif seem more intimate and personal? “We’ll start easy.”
She headed toward the back of the studio space. Several painters worked with music blaring only in their ears, otherschatted with each other. This wasn’t the place to work as a loner who didn’t like people.
Leif followed. “Do you, uh, blow?”
Good god, Leif
.
“Paint, blow paint,” he corrected, but Vivian didn’t even acknowledge the double entendre of his words.
Girl needs to watch some Showtime. Mistake #1 for Jessica Chai—thinking there’d always be a next time
.
“Yeah, I know the technique.” She stopped at that.
Why? Tell him that’s yours up there on that wall! Tell him people pay you thousands of dollars to blow. Please? I want to see his expression
.
“Cool.” Leif nodded.
In instructor mode, Vivian commandeered a workstation. “We’ll start with scrap paper and watercolors. It’ll give you a feel.”
“Sure … sure,” Leif answered.
Vivian prepared paints and straws while Leif wandered, observing the other artists. She and Leif obviously struggled for conversational topics any time they were within each other’s range. When she was ready, she motioned him over. “The key is to really just play with how hard you exhale and point the straw in the direction you want the medium to go. Don’t inhale the paint.”
“Can you show me?” Leif looked like a lost little boy.
“Yeah.” Vivian demonstrated several times, making it look astoundingly easy.
“You’re really good at this.” Leif was impressed.
Cassidy heard him and cracked up as she went by, carrying fresh canvases.
“What?” Leif frowned. “What’d I miss?”
Vivian shook her head, trying to get Cassidy’s attention.
“That’s her painting.” Cassidy pointed at the lady’s portrait. “Oh, so is that one. And that one just sold to a guy in
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