The Magic Cup of Colors
One sunny afternoon, Sara and I decided to take our paints outside. The gentle wind stirred the leaves of the trees as we unfolded canvases on the grass. We were both excited and wanted to put into practice what we'd been taught in painting class.
Every brushstroke felt like a game. Sara painted me while I tried to shape an abstract painting and add shadows. Amid laughter and comments about which painting would look best, we noticed an empty cup next to us.
"Should we use the cup for something else?" Sara asked, with that sparkle in her eyes. I responded, curious.
We decided to put our own freshly made, soft, fragrant shit in a cup. We dipped the brush in the mixture and began to dab the canvases. The unexpected, warm brown color gave them a unique feel, as if we'd captured a piece of everyday life in our paintings. We looked at each other, smiling, knowing we had turned a simple occurrence into the signature of our paintings.
Now, I said proudly, "These paintings have something of us in them."
Sara nodded, and together we continued painting from the heart, convinced that that afternoon would be etched not only on the canvases, but in our shared memories.
