|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Sept 29, 2011 20:35:25 GMT -5
Anouk wa having problems to find the right color for her new paint. She was making desperate noises and chewing on her fingernails, an old bad habit that only surfaced when she was having one of her crisis. Looking at the four walls of her room she finally explode, getting up angrily and rushing down the hallway to the door and out of her house. She needed to get out of there as fast as her long legs could take her, it didn’t even matter where. After a while she calmed down and slowed her pace, checking up the sky. It was gray, announcing rain and possibly some thunder. Anouk loved rain, especially in the autumn and in Paris. She smiled at the sky and took a better look at her surroundings; she saw people everywhere, most of them tourist with their cameras hanging from their necks and their confused faces.
She turned right facing ‘les Champs-Elysées’ a very tourist spot but also the nearest and best place to just hang around and clear her mind, and with the actual weather there won’t be many tourist around screaming and snapping pictures at everything. It irritated her how people could not see the beauty in front of them and stop for a minute to capture it properly. They just snapped pictures of everything they saw without really looking at them, they just wanted to say they had been there, they wanted proofs, not real memories. She had been living in Paris all her life and that had given her the chance to discover little spots no one had seen before. Lying in the grass and covering herself better in her jacket, she looked at the sky trying to find some inspiration, until someone blocked her vision.
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 295
|
|
|
Post by em on Sept 29, 2011 20:59:30 GMT -5
David didn't have classes today, and even if he did, he just wasn't in the mood for all that. All the classical training in the world wouldn't make his life or his music suddenly different. May less raw, maybe nicer and more harmonious. But he wasn't sure if this school would make the art less real. David didn't grumble though, he knew his father wanted to be proud of him. Cecíle was a pain though, and he was glad to get away, even if he lived at the school in a dorm. Family dinners on Sundays were a foolish attempt at normalcy, but the Cliffs were anything but normal.
He had left after lunch, taken his guitar and gone around Paris, playing on street corners by cafés and in parks along the way. He didn't have a real destination, he was just moving, just going. David liked the nomadic style in cities, one street could be so different from the next, and he liked that.
He came to a tourist trap with a name he couldn't pronounce. His french was still a bit silly sounding. David found a spot in the grass, leaning against a tree, he began to play and sing along softly. He wasn't a singer by any means, but his voice was genuine and pleasant to the ear all the same. David didn't mind the rain as it fell in warning drops on his arms. He would survive, and he had his guitar case, so nothing would get damaged. In all honesty, David loved the rain.
Today the tourists were scarce, probably scared by the weather. But he saw a rather large one standing over a girl he hadn't noticed before. Said tourist was rather noisy too, which is why he had looked over.
outfit click me word count 309 song he's playing click me
|
|
|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Sept 29, 2011 21:27:41 GMT -5
Annoyed by the tourist Anouk got up and walked over another free spot, near there was a street singer with a guitar case that was vaguely familiar to her. And here she was thinking she would get some peace, not even rain scared some of the tourist, the Nordic ones were more than used to the rainy weather and weren’t going to waste their holidays at the hotel. Drops were falling on her face and she covered it with her arms, thinking it had been a bad idea to come here after all. The street singer kept playing though, and the music wasn’t bad, at least it was something she could actually listen to while lying there. Curious to take a better look at the familiar face she turned her head and looked at him. Maybe she had seen him playing somewhere but if that was the case she surely wouldn’t remember later, she never paid much attention to them.
As rain started to fall a little harder she thought she would have to find shelter after all. She wasn’t ready to just go home yet; maybe she will walk down the streets and pay a visit to her step-brother. On seconds thoughts that would only make the day worst. It had been one hell of a day, classes had been over soon because the teacher was sick and she had found herself with nothing to do but go home and paint. She had crossed her step-dad in the hall of the apartment building; she still didn’t feel comfortable around him. Suddenly she gasped, placing the face finally; he was a boy from the school, she had crossed him in the halls once or twice, and maybe even during lunch. She got up and walked toward him “I know you.” She said with a smile. “You’re that guy from the school. What are you doing here?”
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 316
|
|
|
Post by em on Sept 29, 2011 21:40:14 GMT -5
David went on playing quietly when the girl came up to him, looking triumphant as she announced that he was that boy from school. He laughed. that sure nailed it down. "La Lumineuse Academy?" He said, tilting his head slightly to shake his bangs out of his eyes. "Yeah, I go there... and as for what I'm doing here, I'm allowed out in the city aren't I?" He asked, another laugh tumbled playfully from his lips. David strummed a few more chords thoughtfully. It was starting to rain now, maybe he should put his guitar away soon...
"I'm just here to play, and be in the city among normal people." Not like the French were really normal by any means, not to him. But the unartistic, the poor, the mildly talented, the unsnobby... Just your average people. The academy was mostly a small select group of highly talented and highly privileged people. David found it hard to connect with them, even after three years there. Maybe this year would be different.
"I'm David Cliff." he said as he played. She seemed friendly enough, and unlikely to be some sort of stalker type, so what the hell. Besides, David was a friendly guy. "And you are?" he asked, promptly putting his instrument away as the rain started to come down strong, not too hard yet, but it was starting. The tree kept them partially sheltered.
|
|
|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Sept 29, 2011 21:56:49 GMT -5
In Paris you could find dozens of art academies spread around town, but none of them could compare with ‘La Lumineuse’. Not everyone had the chance to enter there, so if you were you either had money or you were incredible talented. Or there was the chance that you could be both. People from all over the world travelled to study there, and here was one of those examples. It was obvious from his accent and his French that he wasn’t from here; though he was quite fluent he still had that tone of doubt. Anouk smiled at him. “Yes, that’s the one.” she said, laughing softly at his remark. “What I mean is, you don’t see people from the school playing on the streets every day.” Usually they were very busy to be lazying around like this and they wouldn’t feel the necessity of showing their talent on the streets but on places where they could be discovered.
Now she was a bit more curious about this guy who introduced himself as David Cliff. “Normal people?” She asked, puzzled. The she got what he meant, she frowned. She belonged to the ‘abnormal’ group of people, her parents were rich enough to send her to the academy and paid the fees without trouble, she lived a very comfortable life, not having to worry about lacking of things. But she didn’t think that was a bad thing, of course you could find snobs all around, nasty people who looked down on others. But you could even find them between the ‘normal’ ones, pathetic wannabe who tried to look what they weren’t. “I’m Anouk Fournier.” She answered, still annoyed at his comment. “And excuse me if I’m bothering your time between the normal people.” With that she turned and started to walk, kicking some rocks on her way and muttering softly to herself. It just wasn’t her day today.
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 325
|
|
|
Post by em on Sept 30, 2011 8:15:53 GMT -5
True. Most wouldn't be out and about. It would be like a painter from the school selling on the streets. A low class artists place. David just wanted to escape a world of wealth and privilege that represented his father. David was from a different world, his mothers, a simpler place and time. His new step mother was the picture of snobby excess, not to mention she'd gotten him a spot at this school, and he highly questioned how she got that done.
David could see he had offended her and frowned a little. Then she turned to go. "Sorry Anouk, I didn't mean to offend you." He said sincerely. "I just meant I don't feel I belong in school, and I like to be with ordinary people, since I don't feel like an exceptional one." Anyone at La Lumineuse was the top of the top, the cream of the crop in their artistic field. David felt like a fraud at the academy.
He looked at his shoes, disappointed he'd already blown it with another person here. He didn't really have friends at school, he hated to miss a chance. David hoped she'd forgive him, and in that hope, he stood up and jogged over to be beside her. "What is your art then?" He asked. maybe a change of subject would help them out. And if she really wanted him to go, he would.
|
|
|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Sept 30, 2011 8:41:17 GMT -5
Anouk looked at him, trying to discover if his apology was sincere. So far it seemed to be, but you could never be sure. She lived in a world were hypocrisy and lies was the everyday, and she was ashamed of admitting she participate in that too, sometimes. She sighed and stopped when he started to follow her. It wouldn’t hurt her to talk to him; after all she had been the first one starting the conversation. “Okay, you are forgiven.” she said, smiling a little. “You will never belong if you feel like you don’t. Is all about pretending.” In her voice you could detect a bitter taste. She was happy about being in La Lumineuse, and she felt like she belong there, she had worked very hard to reach the top and to be accepted, but you will always find someone there to remind you they deserved your place more than you.
“I’m a painter.” She said proud of herself. It had run on her blood, she had inherited the talent, but she never knew from whom, her mother had never told her. She hoped she could live from her paintings someday, and having a step-brother working on an art gallery opened her possibilities. She shook her head, trying to push down her thoughts about him. “I think you are quite talented, actually.” She said, looking for shelter from the rain. She looked at the gray sky smiling, the soft cold air messing with her slightly wet hair. She wished she could capture the moment right now, the beautiful color of the Eiffel tower under the rain and the bright colored waterproof jackets of the people around them, almost like flowers in the green grass. “Up for some coffee or hot chocolate? It looks like it won’t stop raining anytime soon.” She said nodding at the nearest café.
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 318
|
|
|
Post by em on Sept 30, 2011 22:40:23 GMT -5
She had a point, about pretending being how you got ahead. Sad, but true. It was like that song from the King and I. Make believe you're brave and the trick might take you far, you may be as brave as you make believe you are. Truth was though, David sort of enjoyed being the newcomer, the outsiders, the mysterious Canadian guitarist. But maybe it was time for a change, just in time to graduate... David shook his head a little. What was he doing with his life? He couldn't play his guitar on the streets of Paris for the rest of his life could he? He did make decent money doing that though...
He was about to comment on her being a painter and how he couldn't pain to save his life, and that he respected that ability. Then she said he was rather talented. "Oh? Thanks." He said, a smile creeping across his face. "I'd love to see one of your paintings some time." he added, that way he could return the compliment if it was warranted. He wouldn't wanna lie.
Then the rain started to pour and he laughed, "Yeah sure!" He said in response to her question as he ran over to the awning by the cafe. Opening the door for her. Trying to be a gentleman so she wouldn't think he was just a sullen boy who didn't belong.
|
|
|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Oct 1, 2011 7:44:04 GMT -5
Showing her hands into the pockets of her jacket, Anouk ran toward the coffee and smiled to David when he opened the door for her. She had heard American guys weren’t much of a gentleman, but maybe this one was an exception, or maybe he had learnt some gallantry from the French boys. Anouk was rather proud of her paints but she had a hard time showing them around, especially some of them. For her painting was expressing her feelings into a blank sheet of paper or in a canvas, some of them were pretty personal. She sat in a table near the windows; she liked rain so much she wanted to see it fall against the window glass. “Maybe someday.” She vaguely said. Looking around for the waitress and ordering hot chocolate with apple pie. “Just curious, in which year are you?” Anouk was on her second year and she was already looking for future perspectives.
His step-brother had offered her a day to exhibit her paintings. She had been excited about it but it was too much work for her right now, projects were coming her way and she had a lot to think about. She had thought about using her old paints but she had a theme in mind for her first exhibit and wanted to make it true. “And where are you from?” He still had some vague accent on him, something that caught her curiosity, apart from him playing on the streets. She looked older than her, she couldn’t understand how being in an older year than her he still was doing something more suited for first years. Usually people in their last years of academy were full of auditions and projects, and very busy trying to make themselves a site in the world they had chosen to live outside the academy. Shaking her head she looked outside the window, people running looking for shelter just like them moments ago, children playing with the puddles of the pavement. A smile played in the corners of her mouth remembering how she loved to do that so long ago.
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 352
|
|
|
Post by em on Oct 1, 2011 10:44:55 GMT -5
Her maybe someday sounded like a never to David. He didn't understand that at all. Art was about expression of self, but art was made to be shared, especially if you went to a fancy academy and wanted to make art your life and livelihood. David wasn't shy about his music, he loved to just take his guitar and go out, feel it, be it, share it. The music, his emotions, his being. He couldn't imagine hiding his art away but he didn't push. They had just met, and maybe he'd never see her again.
"I'm a fourth year." David said. he knew it was funny for him to be out, many fourth years were busy, but that's just not the way he approached it and he didn't care what others thought. He taught guitar to kids, played in parks and in bars on open mic nights. He didn't have some great plan for his life yet. Money wasn't an issue, his pain in the ass father only knew love through a check.
The question was bound to come up, considering that his French, while fine, was a little stiff and obviously not native. "I'm from Canada." He told her. "Toronto." Obviously, they spoke French in Canada, along with english, but the pronunciation was slightly different and any "real" Frenchman would notice. David didn't much care though. He liked Paris, and he could speak French. If anyone had a problem, that was their problem.
|
|
|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Oct 1, 2011 11:00:54 GMT -5
She bit her tongue immediately after saying that. If she wanted to make it big, she will have to show her art around and be ready to be criticized. Her most personal feelings exposed to the world, of course people will interpret them as they pleased. That was something that scared her somehow; she didn’t pain to please the rest with her art, she wanted for them to be moved, to feel something when they saw it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” She explained, taking a bite of her apple pie. “It’s difficult for me to exhibit my art yet, I don’t feel like sharing something so personal… of course I would love for them to see the world from my point of view.” She took another bit of her pie and looked around. “But not my most personal ones.” Anouk painted to express herself and get things out of her chest, those were paints no one would ever see.
She smiled when she heard he came from Toronto, she had been there once with her father and liked it a lot. “I have great memories from them, long trip to come here.” People from all over the world came to study at La Lumineuse, they all fighted very hard to get there, just like her. “I’m from here but my father travels a lot because of his job.” She explained. She had great paints and drawings from there, she thought it was a great chance to show him her art, she always carried around her Scheck book just in case she found inspiration somewhere. “Didn’t you want to see my art?” She said, taking it from her bag and showing it him. “There, you will find my drawings from Toronto.” She smiled at him and offered him some of her pie while she looked at the rain, finding herself much calmer now.
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 315
|
|
|
Post by em on Oct 1, 2011 14:28:04 GMT -5
"The best art comes from inside," David said. "You should show it, open yourself to the world." If you had nothing to hide, your scars in the open, then you saw what you were, and you were in charge of your weakness, not the other way around. No one could find secrets to hurt you if it was all there. David felt that way. But of course, he did keep a lot inside, but not when he played. But she had no excuse, she didn't have to be there when people saw her art. He shrugged. "But obviously its up to you." he didn't wanna seem like a highly opinionated snob in his own way.
David smiled. "Yeah, its a beautiful city." He nodded. "And yeah, my dad got a new job here and remarried, so we moved here." But David didn't wanna talk about it and if she had any idea about people, she'd see that.
He must have been doing something right because she pulled out a sketchbook and passed it to him. Drawings from Toronto... David looked at old photos but it didn't help, it made him miss it. No matter how much he'd grown to like Paris. He flipped it open, admiring her handiwork. It was rather beautiful, and she had her own style too. He could tell, even from her sketches. David also decided to follow her example and ordered a slice of pie. "These are good." he said with a smile and a nod. "Where else have you been?" If her dad travelled a lot, she must have been all kinds of cool places.
|
|
|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Oct 1, 2011 14:51:36 GMT -5
Opening herself completely sounded to her like a crazy idea, everyone needed to keep things in secret, she wanted her private life to be that way, private. But he was right, she will have to get used to it, that’s why the exhibition had sounded good to her. “You are right.” She sighed admitting her defeat and taking a sip from her drink. He looked at his guitar case an wondered if it had been hard for him to use his wounds as a muse for his songs and exposing them to the world. It didn’t seem so since he was so comfortable singing in the streets. “What about you? I guess you use your own experiences for your songs too.” She didn’t like to get into the personal space in the first encounter but he had opened the door and now she just couldn’t help but be curious about it, she was the curious kind of girl who will get killed by it. Curiosity killed the cat.
She shrugged when he asked her about the places she had been. She really liked travelling with his father but lately she hadn’t been able to go with him anywhere. She caught the tone in his voice when he commented moving because of his father re-marrying, she knew that story very well, she had lived it herself. “I know a bit about that.” She said a bit bitter, remembering now her step-brother again, the very one thing she had tried to forget. “My mom also re-married.” She explained. Then she decided to change the subject, he didn’t want to talk about it, and she tried to avoid the topic as well as much as possible. “Well I went from London to Sydney and even touched Japan. It was cool, you will find some draws there from that time.” She said nodding toward the sketchbook and smiling. “So, how are you linking the academy so far?”
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 323
|
|
|
Post by em on Oct 1, 2011 15:06:16 GMT -5
"Yeah, I use music to work through things too, sometimes to heal wounds you have to touch then and open them and see what's going on there.. you know?" He shrugged. Everyone had wounds and if you knew yours, you knew how to approach things, what things would set you off and which things helped you heal. Art was all about working with yourself, while still creating an output that could help someone else. But they were secondary, you did it for yourself.
David nodded. Marriage didn't seem to mean everything it used to. he believe in love and marrying for that, and only if it was what you wanted. But you didn't need marriage to be in love, or to prove it. It seemed a lot of people were falling apart. It sort of made him sad for humanity. He could hope.
Thankfully, she changed the subject. "Neat, I've pretty much been all over Canada and here." he laughed, shaking his head a little. He had never been a huge traveler, but it had never really come up.
"I've been here for a few years, I just keep to myself. Its a cool place, i've learned a lot..." he paused. "I think my step-mother kinda pulled strings to get me in though and I don't know how I feel about that." he said honestly.
|
|
|
Post by anouk lirienne fournier on Oct 1, 2011 15:49:21 GMT -5
Anouk understood what he was talking about, she used her drawing to heal wound and get things out of chest, it was pretty much her healer. But one thing was using that as a way of inspiring and another thing was showing everyone the soft places they could use against you. Of course not everyone will do that but it was a possibility she often thought about. “I think you will make a great singer, you know.” She commented and smiled. Taking another sip of her drink and watching out of the window she realized she was feeling pretty comfortable with a stranger. Well, he wasn’t a total stranger, but she was talking about things she never really talked with anyone before. It was a nice change, she felt strangely calm. “I think travelling had helped me a lot, new techniques of drawing and painting and different perspectives.” Every place had their own things, everyone had their style and you could always learn new things. That’s what she liked about painting, everything was possible and everything changed.
She looked at him openly curious now. She couldn’t believe he had been there for so long and had managed to keep so on the shadows, but of course if after so many years you still didn’t feel you don’t belong it didn’t matter what the rest did to help you, you will never change your mind about it. “It’s about time you get know around, it’s easier for you to make a career if people get to know you.” She said, it would be a good thing for him to start making a name for himself in the school, that way he wouldn’t have to play on the streets. “Your step-mom did a good thing for you, you have talent, the proof is that you are in the best academy around the world. You should make the most of it.” She truly believed that, it was the reason everyone was in La Lumineuse, getting their goals, making the most of their talent, pushing their limits… It was the reason she was there, to give people her view of the world through her art.
----
OUTFIT, here WORD COUNT, 361
|
|