#when i learnt how to make sketches i spent so many papers making portraits and dresses i used up like 3 sketchbooks in 3 months

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff

chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six

author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x

Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.

I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.

My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?

The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.

"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."

We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.

Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.

It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.

"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."

The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.

At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.

"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.

She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."

I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.

"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."

A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.

"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."

Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."

"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"

"Wow, that's young," I realised.

She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."

I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.

"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."

She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.

"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."

A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."

She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.

"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."

"Gee, thanks."

Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.

—

When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.

I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.

We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.

Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.

"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.

I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"

"In Russian," she instructed.

"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."

"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"

"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."

"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."

My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.

"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.

I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.

"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.

"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."

I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."

She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.

By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.

I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.

"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.

She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."

I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"

Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."

Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.

"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."

A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.

"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."

She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"

My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.

—

"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.

She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"

I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"

"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.

"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."

She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"

I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."

She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."

I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."

After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.

"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."

"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."

She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.

Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.

When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.

Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.

Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.

So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.

"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."

I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."

She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.

Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."

She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."

Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"

It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."

Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.

"It was you."

I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"

She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."

My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.

"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."

She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.

Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.

"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.

She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."

My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.

"What?"

She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"

Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.

I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."

She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.

"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.

Wanda felt right.

—

When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.

Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.

The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.

"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.

I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."

My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."

"Mhm."

"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."

I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."

"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."

Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.

"Me, too."

[smutmylifeup]

First Client: Shusei Hayakawa.

Rose spent most of her night unable to sleep – one of two reasons was Kyobashi’s fault, the other the pure excitement to start her work as an intern.

The documents Miho had given her were pretty much read and signed as soon as Kyobashi’s unquenchable hunger was sated – for that moment at least.

The next day, Rose waited at the park entrance, Miho had suggested to meet at.

Miho wasn’t lying when she said it was a nice little place. The scenery was beautiful and the atmosphere was quaint and friendly.

Although she was pretty sure that’s not the reason why it had some sort of ‘meaning’ to her. Rose had thought about the choice of location – perhaps to do with her Fiancé. But that was none of Rose’s business and she wouldn’t ask unless Miho wanted to tell her.

“You’re punctual. That’s a good start.”

Rose looked up from the spot she was perched on a wall.

Miho smiled at her as she stood up and bowed.

“No need for all that,” Miho waved her hand. “Shall we?”

Rose smiled and nodded.

They were both pretty quiet as Miho directed them to the spot in the park that held that special meaning to her. Not out of uncomfortableness, more out of mutual respect for the serene and natural beauty around them.

“Here we are,” Miho declared and took a moment to pick the spot she wanted to sit in. “So, how do you want me?”

Miho’s fake seductive tone made Rose giggle but shook her head.

“Before we start, I read and signed those documents you gave me,” Rose rooted around her bag before finding the wad of paper which had been once neatly stacked. “I kind of couldn’t think about my project and not just thanks to Kyobashi.”

Miho took the documents and somehow even with her relaxed state, relaxed even further.

“Great. I’m heading back to the office after this, so if you have time, why not come with and I can introduce you to Jazz and Selina. H too is she’s around.”

Rose smiled and nodded once more before they got down to the business at hand.

It didn’t take long for Rose to sketch the shape of Miho’s eyes. And although from the look in her eyes was mostly one of love and happiness – there was some sort of anguish there. Not a lot, maybe just the odd shine as the light caught her irises.

Miho wasn’t lying when she said she couldn’t sit for long. She began fidgeting shortly after about twenty minutes. And Rose decided to just take some photos and work from them since the uncomfortableness in her posture started to show through into her eyes.

It was a short trip back to the MJS offices. Or perhaps it could have been a long trip – Rose was too busy focusing on the photos of Miho’s eyes. Thinking of the best way to capture that look of ‘uncertain happiness’.

“You know, you’re going to have to pay attention to something other than my eyes for this job right?” Miho nudged Rose into the building and snapped whatever artistic trance she was in.

“Sorry, bad habit. I get too focused on stuff sometimes.” Rose shrugged looking up and around at the offices.

“That’s not a bad thing, just make sure it’s the profiles you focus on when you’re working.”

Rose nodded her understanding and agreement.

After a quick introduction to Selina and Jazz, H – was out with a client, so she hadn’t got a chance to meet her yet, Rose found herself sat in Miho’s office.

Miho was very thorough, checking every page was signed correctly and dated. She also went over everything again, making sure Rose was fully aware of the dos and don’ts of the company and what she was signing into.

Rose fiddled with her camera and continued to sketch as Miho did her own work.

And not long after a knock on Miho’s office door snapped both out of their creative flow. A man opened the door and Rose saw Miho rise from her seat from the corner of her eye and followed her as her work mode had almost completely vanished and a state of pure affection took hold of her.

Ah, that must be the Fiancé.

Rose’s lips automatically curled into a smile as she watched Miho saunter up to him and she pre-empted a ‘hello darling’ kiss but was also not surprised by the slight tease Miho had as she denied him of that and introduced the pair instead.  

“Rose, this is my fiancé Lieutenant Seiji Goto,” Rose turned fully to the direction of Miho’s voice. “Seiji, this Rose my new intern.”

Both the newly acquainted pair nodded in each other’s direction but neither spoke. Although Seiji’s nod was extremely intense. Even without Miho introducing him as Lieutenant, Rose would have automatically assumed he had a very authoritive role as a job.

Rose continued to sketch as they spoke, aware but not listening to the conversation behind her until it went silent and she glanced back and saw Miho’s fiancé staring directly at her hands that held her sketchbook.

“Wanna look?” Rose held her sketchbook towards Seiji and he looked in thought before taking her up on her offer.

He didn’t quite snatch the sketchbook out of Rose’s hands but there was a possessive tone in his movements. He could obviously tell even from a distance that these eyes belonged to the woman he loves.

“My project is about eyes. And Miho’s eyes speak the truth that her mouth won’t allow. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Seiji didn’t say anything in response to that but his eyes changed, they softened and somehow shone like a firefly in the night sky as he recalled some memory him and Miho shared.

“There is a little crease in the corner of her left eye when she’s happy.” He said handing Rose back her sketchbook.

Rose smiled and nodded as her thanks and began sketching said crease into the piece.

And then there was silence again. Somewhat more intimidating than before as he hung over her shoulder with a scrutinising gaze with each flick of her pencil. Although she couldn’t blame him for wanting to make sure Rose accurately represents his soon to be wife.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting my Fiancé and Intern to both be mesmerized by my eyes. Do my eyes have some kind of power I don’t know about?” Miho’s voice broke out in an amused but semi-serious tone.

And with her back in the room Seiji’s attention shifted to her like she was the only person around.

“Rose, this is the profile of your first client. Come back to the office tomorrow and I’ll go over it with you and he’ll be here and you can be introduced. But for now, I have a date with a nice glass of rum and Seiji of course.”

Miho winked at Seiji and his response was instantly to smile.

Rose watched their interaction. They were so hopelessly in love, it was nice to see. Other than her parents Rose had not seen many encounters of totally besotted love – unless it was unrequited.

It was like an automatic response for Rose to pick up her camera and capture the moment. And she almost got away without being noticed until Seiji’s eyes flicked to her after the shutter went off but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m just going to talk with Selina and ask her to contact Mr Hayakawa and double check he is available for the arranged time tomorrow. Then we can leave.” Miho patted Seiji’s chest before she walked out her office once more.

Rose looked down at her camera and back up to the man sort of scowling at her in silence.

She wasn’t easily intimidated but he held a lot of authority in his posture – and with finding out his job, Rose felt a hell of a lot smaller than she already was.

“If you can make that picture into art, I won’t make you delete it.” Seiji said, his voice neutral.

“Is that a challenge?” Rose countered.

“Think of it as a wedding gift.”

Rose thought for a moment. That wasn’t a bad idea. Buying someone a gift for their wedding was very un-personal and totally not Rose’s style. But a portrait of the happy couple, Rose was already sure, since Seiji had brought it up – that Miho was going to love it and it was something that Rose was more than capable of doing.

“You got it, Lieutenant.” Rose gave a firm nod and small salute with her hand and although she was expecting to be met with a stern ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ glare, she was met with a side smile and a gentle nod.

After that, there weren’t any words spoken. Miho came back and ushered Rose to hurry up and out the building so she could go on her date with Seiji.

The next day at MJS matchmaking and wedding planning agency went well.  

Rose met her first client, Miho made sure he’d signed the confidentiality document several times and checked the medical health reports – she is VERY thorough. And then made sure Rose was aware of everything once more before she let her leave the building.

And then, date time.

Rose sat in a booth at a fancy restaurant, her sketchbook laying in front of her but her clients profile was a few pages back. Her drawing of Miho almost complete, there was something missing and that was frustrating.

Not a good start. Not only was she not focused on her FIRST client, she was doing exactly what Miho told her not to do.

Lifting her head, she looked around to notice several eyes staring in her direction. For no other reason than she looked completely out of place.

Her casual attire was expensive – after all they were from her parent’s high-end clothing line but not ‘sophisticated’ enough for a five star restaurant such as this one. Still smart but not enough.

She’d been to many upscale restaurants in her life. Her parents often taking her out only to be called away in the middle of their starter to attend to some business matter that couldn’t wait until after they’d eaten. She was used to the observing eyes that watched the ‘poor lonely girl’ alone in the booth.

Rose wasn’t spiteful of her parents barely being around in her earlier years, she’d learnt to deal with it through art and she now found her calling in that. She knew how hard they worked to get to where they are today. And Rose wanted to prove herself the exact same way. But proving herself needed money.

Sighing, Rose flicked back a few pages to go over the profile Miho had drawn up.

Hayakawa, Shusei. Twenty-seven years old. Journalist.

‘Not So Mr Perfect’ – Friendly attitude and good looking. Would rather stay in and play videogames all day than go out. But can be outgoing when he wants to be.

‘Deathly afraid of bugs – NO outdoor dates unless you want to carry a 145lbs man around on your back.’ Rose laughed a little.

“I hope Miss Fujiwara wrote something nice about me in there.” A voice said from above, her head following the sound to lock eyes with a warm pair of hazel ones.

“Mr Hayakawa,” Rose smiled, they had a brief encounter back at the office where they were introduced, so she recognised him straight away – he had a face you couldn’t easily forget. “I don’t know if you would consider it nice but definitely cute.”

“Please, call me Shusei,” Shusei sat in the seat opposite Rose, his smile was breath taking and Rose’s hand with the biro in it twitched. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

What a Gentleman.

Rose shook her head but didn’t take her eyes off that beaming smile. It was beautiful, his teeth were straight and white. His lips casing them perfectly, not too plump but not too thin. It was a wonder that smile alone hadn’t found him a wife already.

But she was also grateful because if not for his lack of wife, he wouldn’t be sat in front of her now.

“You look really cute.” Shusei said, his smile not twitching as he passed off his compliment ever so nonchalantly.

“Thank you,” Rose looked over Shusei, after prying her eyes away from his smile. “You look incredibly handsome yourself.”

“I’m glad you approve, Rose?” Shusei asked, testing the waters on whether it was safe to be so impolite in this situation.

“Yes, you can call me Rose.” Being called by her last name was a no go. Plus this was supposed to be a ‘date simulation’ and there were no formalities necessary.

“Rose,” He repeated. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“You’re full of all the right lines aren’t you?” Rose smirked.

“I’m just being honest.” Shusei continued to smile.

A menu was placed in front of each of them and Shusei turned to smile and thank the waitress who too seemed to share the same admiration for his pearly whites.

Rose was already very curious about her first client. He had so many attractive qualities and clearly no lack of women fawning over him – so the need for a matchmaking service seemed a little unnecessary.

And what was even more curious was how Shusei fiddled with the edge of his menu as he looked over it.

“Are you nervous?” Rose enquired.

“Hm, a little. I can’t say I’m overly comfortable with fancy dates. I’m more of stay at home and order pizza kind of guy.” Shusei shrugged.

“Then why did you pick such a fancy place?” Rose put down her menu.

“Well, on a date the first impression is crucial.” Shusei said, placing his menu down also. “No girl is going to be impressed by take-out and video games.”

Rose wanted to laugh, she would have preferred a much more relaxing atmosphere like that if this wasn’t a pretend date.

“But this isn’t like most dates. If you’re not comfortable here, then perhaps we should go somewhere else? After all the profile I write is about the ‘real’ you.”

Shusei seemed to think for a little while before he raised his arm towards the waitress who had given them the menus and asked for the bill. Which was basically nothing since neither he nor Rose had ordered anything other than the free tap water.

Rose didn’t miss the scowl from the Matrie’d as they exited the establishment.

She also didn’t miss the immediate change in Shusei’s behaviour - while he was still charming and sweet, he was also much more relaxed about it. He laced his fingers through Rose’s and acted as if they’d been dating for months. Talking to her about trivial things and swinging their locked hands back and forth.

He was insanely adorable.

Only letting go of her hand when they got back to his place. Shusei showed her in. Rose was slightly surprised by how untidy he was. He was insanely presentable, which made her think that perhaps he was a tidy individual. But looks can be deceiving. Obviously.

“Ah, excuse the mess. I, I’m not that good at tidying.” Shusei said throwing stuff into one pile or another and making space on the couch for Rose to sit.

“So this is why you want a wife, huh?” Rose chortled.

“I wouldn’t have my future bride tidy my mess, I’d ask her to teach me though.” Shusei said, his smile innocent and endearing.

“I see. Want to start learning now?” Rose said picking up a hoody hanging off the arm of the sofa and folding over her arm. “Where’s your washing machine?”

“No no no. I won’t allow you to do my laundry.”

“I’m not going to, you are. I’m going to show you how to use a washing machine.” Rose said picking up a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“How, how did you know I didn’t know how to use…wait never mind.” Shusei’s boyish smile returned as he too gathered up some of piles of clothing around the living area.

Shusei was a fast learner, although using a washing machine wasn’t hard. And he’d set one wash on and the pair went back and sat down on the now bear sofa.

Where Rose remembered that she was actually working.

“Tell me about what you’re looking for in a woman.” Rose said, turning slightly so she was facing Shusei.

“She’s got to be cute, smart, funny, likes video games and nights sat on the couch engrossed in an epic Mario kart battle-“

“Did you just say Mario Kart?” Rose grabbed onto Shusei’s arm that was resting on the back where she was sitting.

“Yeah, do you play?”

“Not for years! Being an adult got in the way of gaming. But I love that damn game – I was pretty great at it too.” Rose sounded like a smug child and Shusei eyes light up and his smile seemed to grow even wider.

“How about we have a little competition?”

If it were physically possible, Shusei’s eyebrows would have wiggled but settled with a slight arch of competitive spirit.

“I’m game,” Rose’s expression matched Shusei’s. “What’s the prize?”

This was the first time Rose had felt like a kid in years. Even though she was technically an adult. She became an adult way younger than she should have. Her veins hadn’t held this childish competitive spirit since she was about seven or eight and she used to have Mario Kart races with her neighbours son. Until Rose’s parents made her move away and she never saw him again.

But that’s another story.

“Hm, how about the loser has to do what whatever the winner says? No matter what it is?” Shusei seemed to smirk a little clearly confident in his Mario Kart abilities.

“Deal.” Rose smirked back, he had no idea who he was up against.

After a quick set up of his TV, the pair sat back in their positions on the couch as they chose their characters and karts.

The first round race was evenly matched, Shusei only winning by a millisecond.

The second round was intense but Rose managed to get ahead in that last lap.

By the third round, they were both perched on the edge of the sofa, the final race was the decider. While neither would probably be bothered by doing whatever the other requested, neither wanted to ‘lose’.

Rose made a mental note to write in her report that he was extremely competitive.

“Cheat!” Rose shouted just after it started, Shusei suddenly nudged Rose and made her kart go off road.

Oh, so he wanted to play dirty did he?

With the corner of her eyes focused on the screen, Rose turned and blew into Shusei’s ear making his hand fly up to cover it – in turn making his cart go off the edge of a pixelated cliff.

“And you said I was the cheat!” Shusei nearly shouted back but his tone was still one of amusement.

It started off as small little things to throw each other off but it quickly got a bit more, adult.

It was the final lap and Shusei was still just ahead, Rose wasn’t about to let his little tricks get the better of her.

So she got up from her seat and scooted into Shusei’s lap. He had a few options, to let Rose sit on the controller, drop the controller or briefly have one hand let go of the controller and let her sit there.

He chose the latter, just like she knew he would.

“Hey, no fair.” Shusei said, his head barely poking up over her shoulder.

In her triumph, Rose wiggled her hips slightly and felt Shusei tense a little under her. Half the course was left, all she needed to was no get distracted by his attempts to knock of her off and she’d be the winner. Her winning streak in Mario Kart intact.    

A warm, wet strip patterned its way up her neck and Rose let out an involuntary gasp and her head turned towards the culprit.

Shusei was staring at her, his pupils dark and his smile no longer that charming boyish one. More of cheeky smirk.

God, he was attractive.

The controller in Rose’s hand clattered to the floor as she got up to turn towards him and straddle his lap.

Shusei’s controller too fell off the sofa in the commotion.

Kissing was immediate. The game and competition now forgotten about. Shusei’s hands fell to her waist and pulled her even closer than they were. Rose’s held his face moving him in the direction she wanted to take the kiss.

Her hands began moving with the rhythm her hips had starting making against his crotch. The friction stirring the need for him in this moment.

His buttoned up shirt was gone in seconds but Rose didn’t forget to pause kissing and clothes removal to inspect the attributes of her client.

Like a true artist, Rose traced the lines of the definition in his chest and on his arms. The slight bulge of his biceps from the way he was gripping onto her was breath-taking. Then the speckle of goosebumps that littered his skin when she traced over a vein that ran up his neck made her smile before she leaned in to lick her way up said vein.

“That feels good.” Shusei breathed, his head naturally falling back to allow Rose to continue searching his neck for weak spots.

“What else feels good?” Rose enquired as she nipped at the skin under his earlobe.

“You, you feel good.” His own hands started to wander, finding her ass and giving at squeeze as if to emphasise his point.

Rose hummed in response before leaning back and staring down at him.

“Do you like the girl to take the lead or vice versa? I’m fine with either but this isn’t about me.” Rose said brushing a strand of hair out of his eye as it fluttered open.

Shusei seemed to blush a little or maybe grow more aroused because in the next instance he picked Rose up and carried her all the way to his bedroom.

He placed her on the bed, almost frustratingly gently.

“I want to worship every part of you.” Shusei whispered, as he pulled away each article of Rose’s clothing and using his lips to kiss each newly revealed part of her.

“Yess..” Rose moaned in response when his lips got closer and closer to where she really wanted them.

Everything thing he was doing was precise and skilled. His lips tortuously soft but still itchingly satisfying. His fingers, no doubt thanks to his game play were rough yet knew exactly what they were doing as they ran up her now naked thighs.

“I want to hear, see and feel more of you,” Shusei said nudging her thighs apart and tracing the outline of her panties with one finger. “I want you so much, Rose.”

Hearing the gruff, lust filled but oddly loving way he said her name made her hips buck into his hand. And she cursed her body for reacting that way to something that she would never hear again but she would definitely remember.

Maybe this job wasn’t going to be as straightforward as she thought.

Rose’s hands that had been gripping the sheets found their way into his hair as if she was trying to distract herself from thoughts that would only spiral down a dangerous path.

“Then take me.” She held his gaze as well as his face.

Her voice was a needy as her body. She could feel how wet she was from a little kissing and touching and she was more than prepared but Shusei chuckled and turned his head in her hands to kiss each of her fingertips.

“Patience,” He took her hands and laced his fingers through them, kissing the back of each one once before placing them back at her side. “There is still places I have yet to worship.”

Shusei went back to work, curling a finger in the waistband of her panties and then pulling them down.

Rose’s breathing got heavier as she watched him his head descend down the length of her stomach and then made himself comfortable between her thighs. The anticipation of what was to come almost making her lungs forget how to work properly.

“You are so beautiful.” Shusei sighed out between kisses up her thighs.

Rose moaned in response.

“Does this feel good?” Shusei asked before blowing against the moistness in her pussy.

The shiver that travelled up Rose’s spine and came out her mouth as a desperate whimper was answer enough but from the tone in his voice, somehow Rose knew he needed an answer. Like he enjoyed the confirmation of her using her words to express how good he made his partner feel.

“Hnng, yes.” She bit her lip and expected him to do it again but was startled but not in a bad way with a flick of his tongue against her clit.

Another few teasing licks followed, each swipe of his tongue changed direction and pressure.

Then the warmth of his palms pressed against her thighs travelled further up, making Rose’s skin goosebump and another delicious chill to run up her spine.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Rose looked down between her legs. Shusei’s eyes met hers when his fingertip found her entrance.

The experimental touch of Shusei’s fingers running up and down the length of her – from her clit and back to her opening had Rose bucking her hips to cause some sort of friction. But managing to get nothing.

Shusei smiled, sweet yet evil as he did it once more.

And then his finger went inside her.

Rose’s arms buckled. Even watching his every move, she didn’t anticipate the speed and satisfaction to hit her brain as fast as it did.

His finger began to move, teasingly rubbing at her walls before sliding in & out slowly. His tongue was against her nub again keeping rhythm with his extremity.

After a few introductory thrusts, Shusei added a second finger. Immediately scissoring them inside her.

“Oh god.” Rose’s head buried into the mattress and her toes curled against Shusei’s skin.

Shusei moaned against her clit with each noise she made, louder and gruffer when her moans got higher in octave.

“Right there,” Rose moaned when he pushed as deep as his knuckles would allow. “Oh god.”

Hearing Shusei’s aroused pants while he continued to finger her pussy just like that had her blood turning into molten lava.

Something about hearing how aroused he was playing her like him favourite video game was so hot that Rose could feel her orgasm coming, pun intended.

After the tense curl her body formed around Shusei’s head and back as her orgasm ripped through her body. Somewhere in the coherent parts of her mind reminded her that she needed to keep her client alive.

Instantly releasing the grip her thighs had around his face, Rose lifted herself onto her elbows again to check she hadn’t accidently broken him in some way.

Thankfully, Shusei seemed completely un-phased, in fact he looked pleased with the potion he was currently in.  

“That was amazing,” He said, licking his lips. “You really are a work of art.”

Out of all the compliments he had thrown in her direction over the course of the evening, that was the one that had Rose flustered and giggling like a teenage girl.

She’ll blame that reaction on the orgasm she just had.

“How about,” Rose started but paused when Shusei pulled his fingers out of her. “Hah, I return the favour?”

Shusei got up but shook his head.

“I didn’t do that because I wanted something in return.”

So he was a giver. Noted.

“I guess your little friend didn’t get the memo.” Rose motioned with her eyes to the bulge in Shusei’s trousers.

“I never said I was finished.” Shusei unbuckled his belt as he walked towards the bedside table and got out the required protection.

Rose liked the darkness in Shusei’s voice and the action of how roughly undid his belt. Perhaps there was a hidden Dom under the gentlemanly exterior. She made another note to mention that in her report.

“Good because your report would end up being really short if it was.” Rose joked.

Shusei seemed to pause for a moment after removing his trousers and boxers that were now pooled at his ankles.

Rose let her eyes travel down his side profile – his cock standing to attention, long but not girthy, pink and puckered at the tip, and smooth and soft looking the rest of the way down.

Is it possible to internally drool?

“We wouldn’t want that.” His tone changed like he’d just remembered this was all ‘work’ to Rose, he was still smiling and proceeding with opening the condom but somehow there was a tinge of sadness.

While he focused on putting on the condom, Rose tried to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Since starting her project she got better at reading people’s true emotions through them but Shusei was avoiding eye contact or was extremely focused on making sure the condom wouldn’t fall off.

Miho had mentioned that some clients after exposing some deeply personal parts of themselves tend to feel a connection with their representative. And from her own experience, had the odd client who believed they were falling for her but ended up happily with one of the profiles she had matched them with.

“You alright?” Rose asked sitting up.

Shusei’s head turned to her and he smiled somewhat sweetly and nodded.

Rose wanted to push for a proper answer since his eyes didn’t seem certain about the nod he gave. But she was distracted when he came towards her and pushed her back down onto the bed.

The kiss he gave her was intense, his lips completely dominating hers in a passionate way that had her breath coming out of her nostrils like the air had been knocked out of her.

Whatever it was that caused the change in Shusei was still in Rose’s mind as he penetrated her. But sometimes, pushing made things more difficult. And she was never one to like putting people in uncomfortable positions. Unless they were okay with it.

The rocking of their bodies was gentle, soft and passionate.

Shusei’s thrusts weren’t fast or rough.

Their moans weren’t screams of intense pleasure but of slow sensual pleasure.

Is this what ‘making love’ felt like?

Rose had had all kinds of sex, introduced to plenty of kinks, felt many levels of euphoria but never the gentleness of ‘making love’.

His cock was still hitting all those glorious places inside her. Part of her imagined ‘making love’ to be too vanilla for someone like herself. But she was wrong, vanilla was just as tasty as any other flavour.

Shusei’s weight was bearing down on Rose and with plunge of his hips had their skin rubbing against each other. In the darkness in the room, there was no way on telling whose limbs belonged to who.

They rolled around, switching positions, Rose on top. And then rolled around to their previous position like they were trying to find the best way for them to seep into each other.

Rose could feel the slow burn of a second orgasm coming and as the continuous kisses came to a break. She looked into his eyes as she guided one of his hands between their bodies to her swollen clit.

Shusei didn’t need any further instruction, moving his position to allow him enough room to move his wrist. A few combined thrusts and swirl of his index finger around her nub had her second orgasm taking hold.

Shusei shortly followed, the contractions of her muscles around his cock causing that final friction that him cumming too.  

Rose laid with her head on Shusei’s arm, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as it slowed to a regular pace again.  

“Hey, we didn’t finish Mario Kart.” Shusei suddenly exclaimed.

“You really are competitive.” Rose chuckled but continued to trace swirls on the skin of his stomach.

“Mm, but so are you.”

Rose laughed again. He wasn’t wrong. She sat up and somehow it came to her as the city night lights cascaded over his body from the open window.

With what she wanted to get him to do as winning the competition now in mind, she dragged Shusei out of bed to finish the final round.

However, when they got back to the living area. Rose’s character was on screen holding the winning trophy. Somehow in the clatter of controllers hitting the floor. Rose managed to just cross the finish line.

Thanks to the light from the TV in the dark living room, Rose was able to catch the stunned look on Shusei’s face. And she wished her eyes could take pictures.

“Told you, I had skills.” Rose nudged his shoulder and then burst into laughter when Shusei pouted like a petulant child.

“Fine, fine,” Shusei bowed at Rose. “What do you command of me Mistress?”

“I’m going to draw you.” Rose had to bite her tongue from saying ‘like one of my French girls’. What was she turning into Kyobashi?

“Huh?”

“I’m an aspiring artist. And you are simply too beautiful to not draw.” Rose wandered to where she placed her bag. Her sketchbook nestled in the same spot it always was.

“I think that is the first time I’ve ever been called beautiful.” Shusei said, watching Rose in awe.

“It won’t be the last, trust me,” Pencil and sketchbook in hand, she ushered Shusei back into the bedroom. “Now, lay in bed please.”

“Wait, you’re drawing me naked while being naked?!” Shusei stopped mid crouch on the bed.

“When I said you were beautiful, I meant all of you. And I draw in whatever dress state I am in when inspiration strikes.”

Despite the initial hesitation in his voice, like a good sport got into position.

Rose flicked on a lamp and positioned it in way that casted beautiful shadows over his heavenly form.

Unlike when she drew Miho, Shusei looked completely relaxed from the word go and chatted away like he hadn’t spoken to a real person in months. Although, after about an hour he went quiet and Rose noticed he’d fallen asleep.

There was a faint smile on his lips.

It was a different look from what she had been originally sketching. And silently she went to grab her camera to take a photo of the vulnerable and happy dream state he was in, so she could draw that as well.

Her first sketch was complete. And her alarm from her phone echoed through into the bedroom – reminding her it was midnight and the date was officially over.

Just as she began collecting her clothes Shusei rolled on the bed towards her.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” He said, his sleepy voice cuter than she had imagined.

“No,” She said as she started to get dressed. “But I was having a war with myself on actually waking you up. You looked so peaceful.”

Shusei reached for Rose and pulled him to her after she was done putting her jeans on.

“I’d say I’ll see you soon, but I won’t right?” Sleepy Shusei was surprisingly honest.

“You’ll see me at the MJS offices. But outside of there, no. Unless you want me to draw you again, I do commission work on the side.” Rose winked and Shusei gave a sleepy smile.

“Mm, maybe you can draw something for my wedding.”

Rose smiled at Shusei’s words. Thankful that whatever upset Shusei earlier in the evening passed and he was now focused on what this whole process was for. Shusei’s grip on her began to relax and Rose kissed his forehead and whispered a good night before placing her parting gift to Shusei on his dresser.

When she got home, Rose began her profile of Shusei in bed and then the second copy of her drawing of Shusei until the early hours of the morning. And when she was finished, even in her half asleep state was content with how it turned out.

Unfortunately, in that half asleep state, she managed to put the drawing amongst the profile she was taking to the MJS offices the next day.

Miho was in for a surprise.

MJS unite: @whatdoyouexpectthistime @nitelotus @hifftn @smile-smile-ichthys 

[yohguysimpson]

Prestigiousness Artness Article for Art People Everywhere by Guy Simpson

Kemang Wa Lehulere:  Here I Am, A Concrete Man, Throwing Himself Into Abstraction

I remember coming into 1st year at CTCA to study contemporary art not knowing what I was going to learn or how, or why for that matter. I didn’t think that I would be dealing with such issues as whiteness, maleness and privilege in the ways that I did. I didn’t think I would want the explore my identity because perhaps, at the time, I did not think I was very interesting, I still don’t but the history of my body seems to have intrigued me.  My body (that being the body of a white male in South Africa) comes with a certain history riddled with complex symbolisms that I can’t even begin to understand.

In Kemang Wa Lehulere’s Here I Am, A Concrete Man, Throwing Himself Into Abstraction are poetic gatherings of symbols and signs that point to a time in the past that is so critical to the South Africa we know today. And not only South Africa but, in general, a thinking of that time that is special and unique.  In Here I Am, A Concrete Man, Throwing Himself Into Abstraction, Wa Lehulere explores youths, ideas of innocence and incarceration, and a playfulness that is particular to him yet still relatable.

As you walk in you are welcomed by black and gold guard dogs, guarding metal pipes that have been fashioned into chaotic sculptures, sourced from old school desks. The pipes still have old chip packets and engravings from when they were used by children in school which ads a certain ‘realness’ to the artwork, that this is something real and not made up.

In a small room there are the remains of a performance where Wa Lehulere sat in a school desk. Opposite him would be anyone willing to sit and have their portrait drawn. The portraits were drawn with water and brush (held in glass bottles) and onto, what looks like a cheap blue paper that one might find in a child’s classroom. What are left are these faint remains of faces on blue pages, like a memory or something learnt and then forgotten.

Into the larger room at Stevenson you are again welcomed by the use of old school desks, this time the wood of the desks have been used to create crates, that have been staked up high. Some left open and empty, some hold guard dogs and some hold glass bottles filled with sand and a rolled blue page like the paper used for the portraits. Crates made from old school desks have that same type of ‘realness’ because of the scratched surfaces and chewing gum stuck to it. It would remind anyone of the school days, only now those memories are constructed into conformist crates. The glass bottles with a scroll remind us that we have memories but so much has perhaps been forgotten. Such as the systems of school, what was learnt and how people spent their time in these systems so furiously guarded by the government of the time, the apartheid government.

Close by is a more abstract and poetic installation that uses the symbolism of piano hammers and deconstructed birdhouses (made from school desks) to perhaps speak about a more musical or poetic note of the past. I know that Wa Lehulere’s parents were both quite musical and that comes through in is art. The bird houses are weighted down with more learnt and forgotten notes in glass bottles and yet again, always being guarded by the same black and gold dogs. It is all connected by the innocence of white shoelaces, tied tightly together but not too tight as too damage the structure, but just enough to make sure it stays together. Titled Matric 2015 Wa Lehulere, I think, is stating how the schooling system of his time pushes people into a certain directions, perhaps into these glass bottles for them to forget who they are, when what the really want is their culture, their music and their arts.

Wa Lehulere’s own experiences of the past are strong in his work, and it seems that he has managed to use many symbols of his childhood to create relatable narratives for most to come and view is work, learn and understand.  

Surrounding these installations and spread out, in what seem to be quite randomly, along the walls are abstract ink drawings framed very conventionally. The ink drawings are very abstract and paired with quite fantastical titles like Cosmic Shower, Two Knots Per Second and Meteor Shower, just to name a few. Perhaps Wa Lehulere once dreamed of becoming an astronaut or perhaps he is simply exploring a type of sketching or doodling that is reminiscent to what one might find on a school desk. Whatever it is, these drawings seem to be outsiders to the installations; viewers or audience members. For me, this makes them less inviting but I must also admit that, that may only be because I do not understand them and people can become distant from what they don’t understand.

Perhaps this is the whole meaning of his drawings that no one could understand.  In terms of his installations I thank him for making it relatable even to, someone who grew up in a different time and frankly, in a different world.

 Word count: 879

[sammoorefoundationart-blog]

Here is the full book, all finished (minus the yellow because it exceeds the image limit, but its in the previous post)

Our exhibition is all done and over. The private view was really well attended, something like 200 people over the entire night which was great. Awesome to see so many people there. I wish I had made postcards of my work because I think my work would translate really well into postcards but no problem. Always next time.

I am pretty happy with the book, its got a good feel to it. I think that can really change the way people perceive your art if they are able to pick up and handle the piece. Here is my final critical review, detailing my opinion of my project and detailing how it all went.

Final Critical Review: Fresh

Overall, I am pretty happy with the way this project has gone. I have proven to myself that I am able to produce what I consider a strong concept, work effectively, do constructive research, create work that I am proud of and am able to tackle issues that I thought would ruin my project. I came to a difficult wall to climb over before my interim assessment but I’ve been able to push past and come out on top of it. I realised my original concept wasn’t strong enough so while I figured out how to revamp it, it paused the majority of my work, so I ended up behind. However I was able to get back on track and produce something for our collective exhibition at the Undercroft, and believed it was to the same standard to the majority of my peer’s work.

My original concept was to produce lots of sketches of strangers that I observed on the street, hoping to present a clear line of improvement at an artistic skill that I found unfamiliar. I later came to the conclusion that this concept wasn’t strong enough and had to take a step back. I needed something with more depth but didn’t want the research and work I had already done to go to waste. So I started to look at the 100 (ball park figure) faces I had drawn and what I had captured already. In some I had managed to get their expression and character down onto paper quite well. So I started to look at emotion and eventually looked at expressionist art and how they convey emotion. I liked the way in which emotion was conveyed with colour and decided to base my new concept on that. I went around creating a book presenting illustrations of strangers, and used colour to heavily convey the emotion I observed from briefly watching them. The book title would be ‘Strangers’ and I would create the book myself, learning how to stitch and bind it together, along with the cover of the book.

Originally I researched mostly portrait artists, such as David Hockney and Hernan Bas while also looking at illustrators that I thought approached the human face in an unique way. Alongside this I looked at a face proportion book by Jack Hamm to better acquaint myself with the ‘rules’ to drawing the face. Once I redrafted my project, I looked at German Expressionism from the early 20th centuries such as Karl Schmidt-Rottluff and Emil Nolde, two renowned expressionists who focused on using colour as a means to express emotion. From this I started to look at the psychology behind colour, and its use within branding. I conducted a small questionnaire where I asked three of my friends if particular colours invoked certain emotions. From this I learnt that it is primarily a subjective view but did see similarities between some answers. Along with this, my previous concept left me sketches of strangers which I now count as physical research, gathering source material to use as a reference for the vague characters I created. I looked into an artist called Dennis Brown or ‘Bagger43’ who heavily influenced my use of ink within my project and the methods I used. I also researched book making tutorials from youtube to learn how to stitch and bind.

Obviously I had issues with my previous concept. It started when I realised that although my project did show progression, I felt the improvement wasn’t great enough for me to feel proud of and present in our exhibition. If I had considerably more time, then I would have felt a lot happier about it. I resolved this project through broader research, simply looking for something to build upon, which eventually I found. Other problems I encountered was my difficulty with time planning. It happened in my last project and happened again up until my interim assessment, where I made small weekly plans, simply setting myself my aims and what I wanted to explore. Other than that, the smaller issues I had were learning to stitch, which took a few attempts but I soon gained the hang of it, although my final book has started to fall apart but they may have been from mistreatment during the exhibition. A handle with care sign might have been a good idea.

As I mention, time planning has always been an issue for myself. I tend to work by acting and then seeing where that takes me for the next logical step. Once I learnt that it was a marked factor for our piece, I started doing weekly plans. Although not too detailed, it allowed me to prepare and  take logical steps to my next action so I could make sure I spread my work and time around evenly.

I learnt quite a lot during this project. I have become much more proficient at drawing the human face as the basic proportions have become much more familiar to me now. I used Jack Hamm’s proportions books to learn these skills, along with some interesting exercises to play around with. Also from watching Bagger’s videos I learnt the technique of soaking ink back up to leave a stain, something I used for all of my final images. Other skills I have learnt are how to bind a book, which I learn of a youtuber called Sea Lemon. This is a new skill that I found quite enjoyable and am very glad I was able to get this out of project.

Conclusions about my own work that I came across are mostly that I still have a lot to learn when it comes to art. Although I have shown improvement, I’m still very far off where I want to be. Relating more to my original project and through the act of repetition, any skill can become familiar is enough time and efficient practise is put in. By this I mean the time spent learning a new skill should be based around self criticism and improvement. Don’t focus on skills that are already easy, but on improving skills that appear difficult. Through this, progression will be more apparent and is a better use of time.

I like to think my work can be appreciated by all audiences. The use of vibrant colour and the ink drop effects may appeal to a younger audience while also an older audience can appreciate the relation of colour to emotion. Also since I have presented my final piece as a book, it becomes very hands on. To have something that you can hold and flick through is a nice way of condensing content together, allowing you to focus on an image at a time while also getting a feel of the design and craft.

In conclusion, I think that the work I have produced is to the standard someone at my level of the course should be producing. I have shown a variety of skills in art and design, have a well thought out concept that goes beyond the visual side of the art. Alongside this I have shown that I am capable of working artistically with my thought process and my ability to solve issues, large and small. I wasn’t afraid to revamp my concept and push past previous stubbornness to achieve a new goal.