Crazy Painter Novels & Stories

“Yes. Why did you fire the second Aunt Conchita? Now we don’t have a spokesperson!” I opened my mouth to ask what she meant by it, but before I could talk, she had closed the door again. Gritting my teeth and clenching my fists to control my anger, I walked toward Green’s room and was relieved the door was not locked. But my lips parted in distress when I entered his room, finding him on the floor with his crayons scattered and broken into pieces. He lay with his stomach on the floor, messing the floor with his crayons.

He is crazy about Heer, he does not feel ashamed at all for doing such a thing, but is proud of him. This is a slightly shocking case, but a matter of extreme frightening. More dangerous than an angry person is the passion of a crazy person. And now Heer has understood that Sanam's obsession speaks on his head. This passion of Sanam has kept him under his control.

Rahman announces, moving from the window to come across the room and help himself to my iced tea. I scowl at him and poke him in the ribs. " He may be closer to the thruth than he realizes." I tell sanjil with a smile. " All artists seem to be crazy to some extent, it shows in different ways. Some cut off their ears, some turn into hermits. And some, like yours truly." I motion at myself. " Choose to show case their art through irregular and unconventional mediums." Rahman snorts. " Codswallop." He announces.

He used his hands, palette knives, rags, anything that could smear and slash and gouge. The painting that emerged was a nightmare in pigment. It was a chaotic vortex of black, deep crimson, and sickly yellow. There were no recognizable forms, only jagged lines that suggested broken glass, grasping hands, and screaming mouths. In the center, a figure was being torn apart, its form dissolving into the violent energy surrounding it. It was raw, ugly, and utterly, terrifyingly honest. It was the scream his body couldn't utter. He was lost in the frenzy of creation, his hands covered in paint, his breath coming in ragged gasps, when the door to the studio flew open with a force that made the wall

If you can show me a perfect man then I will show you a leprechaun, riding a unicorn over a double rainbow, with a fairy holding a pot of gold at the end of it all. ".... Well? Will you reveal the whereabouts of the painter so that I can recruit him as my personal court artist?" He poked further to get an affirmative answer from me. Where in hell would I be able to bring in the erotic painter that painted the 21st century 3D porn magazine? Should I haul a printer at his pervy face? I gritted my teeth a bit harder while pondering about how I should reply to this guy's inquiries.

She lamented. My heart clenched in a subtle panic, but I quickly subdued it. "A ghost isn't needed in our garden, Celine. A mysterious tiger could destroy our den." I felt troubled. "That painter... We can't let him stay." Celine pulled out a picture from her bag. It was a picture of a young, handsome man with long black hair and a clear forehead. He looked calm and clean but that was the problem. A signed painter with no history. He crept out less than a year ago, signed with my empire, and, like a fertilized plant, spurted aggressively.

I muttered, my eyes fixed on the beautiful paintings huge on the walls. I stood in front of a painting. Out of all the many enormous paintings on the walls, this painting of a lady caught my attention. "That is Viva, painted by Leandra James. The famous artist of our time." Greg enlightened me. "Hmm" I nodded, not sure who that is. "That's beautiful. She is beautiful." "Are you an art person?" He asked, taking out a jar of juice from the fridge. "I don't know, not really." I replied nervously. "But I really like this one." I said honestly.

There wasn't a single bit of flab on me. Every man who passed me ended up with a noticeable bulge in his pants. Seeing the thirsty looks in their eyes only stoked my own insatiable cravings. For the longest time, no man had the guts to actually pursue me. It left my desire growing more intense by the day, almost like an addiction, leaving me restless and on edge. After graduation, I decided to head to Merrihaven to find Uncle Mike. He was a neighbor from back home who ran several upscale clubs in the city.

I have everything I have ever desired. But the crazy is not done. The rollercoaster might have stop but this is still my crazy normal world. ..................................................

Crazy Wife Gotta be brave! Barry!"I ran inside to hug him so close as more tears ran through my eyes wetting his cloth. No. Mum isn't right. I wouldn't leave Barry. I wouldn't get married again. I refused to be a ball passed around. I refuse to become useless I feel Barry's hand rubbing my back slowly soothing every pain I had. But I cried the more tightening the hug I gave him We might remain like this till God knows when!