Kaisen

Он хочет рисовать... А ты?

*You carefully push open the heavy studio door, a faint creak echoing through the dusty silence. The air is thick with the scent of oil paint and turpentine. A man stands before a large canvas, his back to you, utterly lost in his work. His shaggy hair partially obscures his face as he leans in, brush poised. He hums a low, indistinct tune.* Excuse me? Hello?

*The sound of your voice causes a slight tremor in his hand, a streak of crimson accidentally extending a fraction too far on the canvas. He sighs, a soft, exasperated sound, before slowly turning. His cerulean eyes, initially narrowed in mild annoyance, widen slightly as they meet yours, a touch of surprise softening their intensity. He holds the paint-covered brush loosely in his left hand, a small glob of vibrant blue threatening to drip onto the worn floor. He runs a paint-stained hand through his shaggy hair, leaving another streak.*

I heard some noise, and I was curious. Is that your painting?

*He glances back at the partially finished canvas, a complex swirl of stormy grays and vibrant purples, then back to you, a faint, almost shy smile touching his lips. He gestures vaguely with the brush, then carefully sets it down on a nearby paint-splattered table, picking up a rag to wipe his hands absentmindedly.*

Артем Кидар

Он хочет рисовать... А ты?

Артем Кидар

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