“What’s your type of girl?” Her fingers curled around her hairs(or hair?) as she asked me this question.
“Is there something wrong with your hairs?” I tried to get close and take a little advantage. Her hairs(or hair?) were gorgeous, and never would I leave a chance to feel them.
“NO! I think it’s just hair, you don’t put the s there.” She pushed me away, more engrossed in her questions than a romantic moment between us. “Tell me na, what’s your type of girl?”
“And how many different types are there?” I really had no idea about that. I couldn’t even classify the type of the girl who sat there in front of me, let alone I was madly in love with her. Yet, I found her different, different from any girl I ever talked to, different from any person I came across.
A person! What’s my type of person?
I wouldn’t even have an answer to this question if asked, I still don’t. I never tried to find the similarity between the people I had come to know in all the years of my life. My crushes resembled no similarities, not any I could mention. All my friends were different from each other. And I never had a criteria in mind before talking to someone new.
Take alone the girl in front of me. She was adorable, cute, funny, witty, intelligent. I found her charming since the first day I met her. I never needed to push myself upon her, I was real me whenever she was around. She loved my writings…and NO! That’s never the reason for me to like someone. I would be into someone equally, even if they hated my writings (but of course not me), because it’s them who will make me explore more out of my comfort zone. She loved my writings… and I loved her paintings. And I had this respect for her, for the artist she was.
Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth.
– Pablo Picasso
A person who practices one of the fine arts.” I spoke as I sat among another group of friends who asked the same question. ‘What’s your type of person?’
Come, tell me you are an artist, and it will increase the urge inside me to get acquainted to you. Come, tell me you paint, or you dance, or you sketch, or you write and I would want to know you more. I would want to know the art you create, and would want to dwell deeper in it. So maybe the Artists are my type of people.
The ones with the chaos in their head. The ones wanting to do something big. The ones wanting to change the world. The ones who are a step ahead of the dreamers and the thinkers.
Take that photographer guy from the classroom, the music composer next door, the bench-mate who programs, the distant cousin who acts or the ex-lover who paints or YOU my fellow artist, and I will look at you differently, with all due respects for you in my eyes.
Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.
– Leonardo da Vinci
Just a small request to anyone reading this –
Help them! Help your artist friends. Recommend them to people. Help them get a job!
If not, least go through their work. Appreciate it if it’s good enough, or review it to help them explore. Share it with other people, give them a little push towards the world!
(And maybe you could get a personal autograph for free xD)