So here's my QSoD. I drew this in, maybe, ten minutes total. I also wrote something to go along with the picture, though:
Mary-Anne walked out of her house and stuck her hands in the pockets of her coat. It was a cold Friday morning which made Mary-Anne worry.
"Oh, child," Marry-Anne looked down at her granddaughter - Jane - walking beside her, "I don't know if this is going to work..."
"Of course it will grandma. I promise they'll come." Jane was referring to the town's people going to the park to hear her grandmother sing. For one week solid Jane had been giving out hand made fliers to the anybody who'd stop to take them. All because she wanted everybody to hear her grandmother's beautiful voice. The reason? Well, it all started when Mary-Anne was just a little girl...
"Mamma?" A four year old Marry-Anne looked up at her mother - Beth - as she helped her bake.
"Yes, child?" Beth replied with her sweet-as-sugar smile.
"Mamma do you know what I want to be when I grow up?" Marry-Anne abandoned her place next to her mother to go stand in a position hinting to the answer. The little girl stood with her arms spread as far as they could extend outward, her head tilted up, and opened her mouth as wide as she could get it.
Beth put one hand on her hip and the other on her chin, "Hmm.." Beth began, "Let me guess... a singer?"
Mary-Anne shook her head, "No, no, no, mamma! Not just any singer... an opera singer."
Beth scooped Mary-Anne up in her arms, "An opera singer? Why would you want to be an opera singer?"
"Because mamma", Mary-Anne said, attention slowly diminishing as her mother's necklace caught her eye, "Opera is just more pretty than singing those usual, boring, old words in the same pattern."
"Well, where will you learn how to sing opera, child?" Beth set Mary-Anne down again.
"Oh, I'll learn, mamma! Even if I'm one hundred years old by the time I do, I'll learn."
"Mmhh. C'mon Mary-Anne, we still have to finish this pie before Papa comes home," Beth said and the mother and daughter continued with their baking.
Seventy years had past since then. Mary-Anne didn't learn how to sing opera but she still had twenty-six years to go.
"Come on, grandma! The park's just a block away!" Jane grabbed her grandmother's arm and pulled her along. As they approached the park, to Mary-Anne's disappointment, they saw not many people came to see the old woman sing. But, Jane was determined to have her grandmother sing.
"It doesn't matter, grandma! We can go sing to those two men siting on that bench over there!" Jane tugged on Mary-Anne's sleeve. "Excuse me, misters. Would you care to have my grandma sing for you?"
"Sing for us?" One of the men, a portly old man with a gruff British accent, questioned the seven year old girl. "Well, whatever do you mean?"
Jane looked up, "Grandma?" Mary-Anne looked at her granddaughter and nodded.
"Tell me what you think, gentleman," The woman said.
As Mary-Anne took a step back she started to close her eyes. As she closed her eyes, her mouth began to open. As her mouth began to open, music began to come out.
Mary-Anne didn't know the words very well - as they were in another language - and she had only heard the song twice, but she sang it with such beauty and elegance that none of that mattered. Some notes she went higher, and some notes she went lower, and some notes she sang as if she were talking it. But, with each note she sang, it seemed more and more people were starting to crowd around Mary-Anne. By the time Mary-Anne finished her song, there were at least one hundred people all around her, waiting for more.
"So gentleman," Mary-Anne opened her eyes again, "How did you like it?"
The first gentleman spoke, "I've been to countless operas but I've never heard any sang as beautifully as that. Well done M'aam. Well done indeed."
"See grandma? I told you they'd all like it! Right?" Jane turned to the crowd as they all cheered for Mary-Anne.
"Oh, thank you. I only wish I could have truly learned opera."
"You mean you've never been schooled on this art?" The second gentleman finally spoke.
"Never, sir." Mary-Anne replied sheepishly.
"You mean you've never been schooled on this art?" The second gentleman finally spoke.
"Never, sir." Mary-Anne replied sheepishly.
"Well, M'aam, it just so happens I own a school of fine arts. I have a few instructors who would be thrilled to coach you."
Mary-Anne grinned and thought to herself, If mamma were alive...
"Do you accept this offer?" The first gentleman spoke again.
Mary-Anne looked at Jane, then at the smiling audience, then back at the two gentlemen, "Yes, I accept your offer. Thank you."
------------------------------------------
So I hope you liked my story. I would make it longer (and I will for my own copy) but for now I decided to keep it the way it is. I thought it was a cute, little, read-to-your-kids-at-night type of book.
I just wrote it as I went a long (it's not that long of a story) so it's not my best work but I figured, for this type of drawing, I couldn't not write something to go along.
Send A Request:
To send a request for a commission, send an email including what you would like me to draw for you to:
Also, visit the Contact Page for more information
Please tell every one you know about this charity and help me help my aunt!
(Visit our Facebook Page here: Skiddish Art Facebook Page and don't forget to hit Like so we can gain some attention)
~Kassie
No comments:
Post a Comment