Inspired

Oliver had been cleaning the same spot on the same table for the past twenty minutes. He found the perfect inspiration for a piece of art while cleaning. Two old lovers had sat in a booth together after a long day; the wife had been cuddled up to the man’s side as they relaxed. He did not want to lose this inspiration despite the couple left hours ago. But he couldn’t have dragged his paint and brushes down to paint them. He wished Anita had been there to take pictures so he could recapture the image.

“Agate, I’m closing up,” yelled Cyrus from the back of the restaurant. The voice woke Oliver out of his stupor. The other employees were gone and the restaurant was dark, save the lights from the street. As soon as the door clicked shut, Oliver rushed up to his attic, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil. He rushed back down the ladder to open a blind near the booth where the couple had sat and started to draw.

He didn’t know why he felt so inspired by the picture. Maybe because of all the love in the air between his co-workers. He could almost imagine them as the older people in the booth. Or perhaps he saw his parents or grandparents at the table. But considering how distant he had been with his family because of his choice of career, probably not. He should have joined an anime studio. He bent over in position to sketch. He adjusted his angle as he went, marking where he would add light and shade.

Once satisfied with his sketch, Oliver closed the blind, checked all doors locked and then retreated to his attic. He turned on the single light in the room, illuminating his modest living arrangement. He set down his art book before switching his clothes into something he could paint in. He set up his art supplies, placing a canvas against a small stand he had found abandoned near an art studio. He then crawled out of his small space to get a cup of water and a clean towel for his brushes. Once everything was set up, he propped up his sketchbook and began transcribing the image to canvas. He knew he could have started drawing on the canvas. But he liked having the originals stashed away in his art books, in case he ever wanted to try painting them later after he had improved his skill. Luckily, sketching made transcribing it to canvas easier since he didn’t need to mark in much of the shading detail.

When he finished the last of his sketch, he sat back. He pulled out one of his brushes, opened a paint color, dabbed the brush in the container and then applied the acrylic to the canvas. The painting process was always his favorite part, as he began to lose himself in his art. His mind recalled every small detail of the scene he was now transcribing from memory. The warm light cast a soft glow on the older man’s face from the outside, and the cool tones of the interior. He even put Ramona in the background, cleaning a table. Adding a co-worker to his art was always a fun tidbit for him.

His art continued long into the morning hours, Oliver touching up the painting in various places which was probably why he wouldn’t do well in an anime studio because he was such a perfectionist. Wondering what else needed touching up, he sat back, admiring his work. He took a deep breath and sighed in relief, feeling the work was complete. Oliver dipped his brushes in the wet cup dirtied by the mixed paint before drying each one with his towel. He set each brush out to dry and packed up his paint. He pulled out one of his more colorful pens and wrote his signature in the bottom right corner. He looked down at his clothes, considerably touched by paint. He would need to clean up before work started.

He crawled to his makeshift bed and was asleep in seconds, only for a loud slam of the attic door to startle him awake.

“Agate! Wake up! It’s time for work,” hollered Cyrus, not bothering to check if Oliver had woken up yet. Oliver turned over, trying to go back to sleep. He would wait until Sierra went up there before trying to wake up.