From a short story I am almost done with. It might be ready to send out now. At this point, an eccentric artist/street person is explaining a painting to a friend.
“Yeah” Was all Chris could manage. He looked through a few canvases and although he was no art critic, he knew they were good. He picked up a large one that stood out and propped it on the bookshelf. There was something about this one that drew the eye in. It was like no painting he had ever encountered.
Red spoke from behind him and he startled a little. “Like that one, huh?” Red said. “Me too. Best thing I’ve done. Did it in one night a few years ago. Stone, cold sober if you can believe it.”
“It’s so …” Words failed Chris.
“Speaks to you.” Red answered “I know. It’s called The Silent Aspirations of Bastard Amber. Bastard Amber is a color gel used in theater lighting. It can also be a paint color, and that’s the beautiful thing about it. It’s a color open to interpretation.”
“Yeah?” Chris managed, not taking his eyes off the painting.
Red pointed to a place on the picture. “Here’s the Bastard Amber. And here and here and back here. And you step back and look at this painting as a whole and it’s us. It’s me and you and, like the people, man. And we’re back there like the Bastard Amber and we are open to interpretation man because that’s what life is. And see all of this up here, the big stuff? It’s all moving around and swirling and huge and dominating and it’s in control.” Chris glanced at Red. And in saw the old Red of intellect and passion, of drive and wonder.
Red continued staring at the painting and talking like Chris wasn’t there. “All this up here, it’s like the government, the corporations, the organizations and all the crap they pile on us the Bastard Amber. It’s the news and the booze and the dope and the politics and the war and the useless garbage they try to sell us. They’re pushing us behind and keeping us back. But look at the Bastard Amber. Here and here and here. See what it’s doing? It’s on the outside and moving up. The Bastard Amber is saying to all that crap, that garbage; you might be on top now but we are on our way. And one day. One day, man. You’re gonna see us and we won’t be silent no more. Maybe not in this life. Maybe in the heaven or nirvana or paradise or whatever you want to call it. The Bastard Amber is gonna rise and be right up where it belongs. And all the pain you caused us, it won’t mean nothin no more. You look, man, you look long enough and you will see. Here’s your coffee.”
Chris took the cup from Red and the coffee, as promised, was good.