Slowly Spin Beneath The Day` INDIGO

[Jordan Dredd]

OH THERE AIN’T NO REST FOR THE WICKED
AIN’T NOTHING IN THIS WORLD FOR FREE

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Carefully the brunette boys’ tattooed fingers held the pen as if was a delicate as a spaghetti noodle and that if he pressed any harder then he might break it. Jordan easily swept his hand across the page of his notebook, only touching the pen to paper where he thought an improvement to the piece was needed. He shaded in the edge of the petals, added darker detail on the leaves, and outlined details in the fences before moving back to the center of the flower. He pressed the pen into the paper before flicking his wrist gently, creating a slight swirling motion in the middle of the flower, pulling focus to the middle. He flicked his gaze back up to the spot of inspiration for a brief moment, checking against the points of reference he saw to make sure that he hadn’t missed any important details that would make or break the piece he was working on. Jordan had an eye for detail whenever he was drawing something else, especially something as beautiful as a single flower against an old wooden fence. He gaze fell back to the paper, appraising the finished piece. He noted that there were a few uneven strokes throughout the piece when he had gripped the pen to hard. He also noted that there were a few places where he allowed the pen to rest for too long, causing small spots of blotchy ink. Of course these were only small details that anyone without a keen eye probably wouldn’t notice, as well he was just being over critical of his work as per usual.

The boy leaned back against the bench, scratching his back against it slightly, marveling in the feeling of his muscles loosening up. He rolled his shoulders forward and the backward, and then followed by doing the same to his next before he stretched out his legs, rolling his ankles. The boy had been sitting in the same position for about an hour and half now as he worked on the drawing he had just completed. Jordan had been sitting up straight, his shoulders only slightly hunched, feet flat on the ground with his knees at a ninety degree angle. He had one hand around his sketch book protectively, as if guarding it from anyone that would run by and try to take it from him, or take a quick look. His head was titled down slightly so that with a flick of his gaze upward he would be able to see the flower against the fence and then quickly return his gaze back to the drawing at hand. His pen hand rarely ever left the paper, it was always in continuous motion whether it was outlining, shading, dotting, or whatever he deemed necessary. While during the process of drawing the flower he didn’t notice his muscles tensing up and cramping, but once he was done and allowed himself to lean back in a more relaxed state he could really feel the strain that he had put on his body.

Often when working on a piece of art that he was really involved in he would sit in the same position until it was complete, only his pen arm, eyes and head moving every so often so that he could see his inspiration and transmit it on to the paper. Passersby, he noted, sometimes stopped and watched the boy for minutes on end to see if he would move, or to get a peak at what he was so concentrated on drawing. In his younger days he would become nervous and then stop, which would throw him off his game so to speak and cause him to look up in exasperation at the people surrounding him, trying desperately not to tell them to fuck off. Now though, he didn’t really care, if people wanted to stare at him then so be it. He had quickly gotten over the fact that people were nosy and often liked to poke their heads into other people’s business, especially when they appeared to be doing something interesting, especially in a public place. That was the only problem with coming out to find inspiration, once you found something and began to work at it, especially in places like the park where Jordan currently was, people flocked. He tried to pay them little regard, but sometimes they could still get to him, especially if some of the friendlier, or annoying people, started to ask questions, then he would just end up stopping and coming back later. Thankfully today he had be able to sit and draw without any interruptions, leading him to be in a fantastic mood.

Jordan smiled in content as he capped the pen before putting it back into his bag, his eyes leaving his fresh piece of work for only a brief moment to secure his items. What the boy had failed to notice as he was relaxing and slowly cleaning up was the breeze that had picked up, suddenly taking his loose piece of art with him. Quickly shoving his sketchbook into his bag he hoisted it onto his shoulders and took off after the flower art that was floating through the air. His hazel gaze never left the piece of paper as he weaved in an out of the people on the sidewalks and the grass area, grabbing at the piece every so often only to let it slip through his fingers time after time. “Get back here!” he shouted at the piece of paper, drawing a few eyes towards him. The boy jumped at the paper, finally managing to grab it from the air, but coming at a price. As Jordan landed on the ground he stumbled into someone with enough force to knock him off balance and cause him to fall to the ground, though he paid little mind to that fact. He was more concerned with the person he had just bumped into. “Oh gosh, I’m terribly sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.” He exhaled in a rush of words as he stood up to his feet, his face set in an embarrassed frown.

OH THERE AIN’T NO REST FOR THE WICKED
UNTIL WE CLOSE OUR EYES FOR GOOD

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• Word Count:1029
  
• Status: Complete!
  
• Tag:INDIGO
  
• Notes: ahh sorry it took me so long to get it up and that it’s a little rambly xD
  
• CREDS: Sketch belongs to S Ciaccio 2009.
  
• Music:
  
• Clothes