Fruits Basket Painting Novels & Stories

A canvas measuring 90 cm is stable on a dark brown wooden easel. A young girl is sitting beautifully in front of the canvas easel. The girl was holding a brush in her right hand and her left hand holding a glass palette filled with various mixed paint colors. Slowly the girl polished one color at a time onto the large plain canvas. An abstract painting looks so mysterious, beautiful but has a very deep color, as if it depicts mixed feelings, deep emotions and warm feelings emanating from the painting in a mixture of moss green, pastel, yellow and gray colors.

Raphael sat down by the balcony of his room with a canvas in front of him as he moved the strokes of his brush gently against the canvas… He seemed to be lost in thoughts as he tried to perfect his drawing.. Even though it looked like he was staring intensely at the painting, he wasn't really paying attention to whatever he was painting.. “What do you want?” He spoke without raising his head and the woman who'd been standing by the door with a guilty expression, walked towards him with a fruit basket…

After a couple of minutes, during which I stood there stewing about how my father had just ruined a beautiful morning, I turned the radio down low and walking back to the stairs let the string back down so it wouldn't look like I was hiding anything. Going over to the small fridge Dad had put up there I grabbed a yogurt and a banana and sitting down on the stool looked at my latest painting as I ate. Once again my brother and I were the subjects but unlike the other this one was full size and it was just us. Taking an 8x10 of each of our faces I had cut them in half and taped them together so it was the right side of my face and the left of Mark's.

The sun was just starting to set, casting a warm orange glow across the sky. As we settled down on the blanket, Lino pulled out a wicker basket filled with all sorts of delicious treats. There were freshly baked croissants, a variety of cheeses, a selection of fruits, and there was Cassy's favourite fruit drink. He had even remembered to bring a couple of glasses. "This is a lot, Lino. I can't possibly finish all of this,"Cassy said, settling on the other side of the basket while he took out a couple of fruits from the basket.

I nod in agreement, I would be lying if I say these aren't beautiful, I don't even know the word to use for them. "That's a wonderful piece." Someone commented beside, "Great taste." He added with a nod. I didn't realise I was staring too deeply into the painting in front of me that I didn't hear him come beside me. It was a forest scenery, with great taste of green for the mountains, there's a waterfall in the middle of the mountain. The water rushes off the mountain with immense speed, land on the river below hashly and creates waves. A little boy sat at the other side of the mountain with a fish hook in his hand, obviously fishing.

Hilda says, walking towards me. "Yes. It's so sad they would not be mine." I reply, adding a smile to conceal my sadness. "It's okay. It's business." Mum pats my hair. "We got you some fruits. They are in the basket." She adds, hoping to change the topic. I look to see the hand woven basket filled with apples, grapes and kiwis at the top of the mini refrigerator, covered in polka dots napkin. I turn to her. "Thank you, mum."

"You, what did you prepare for your father?" I knew that she was so close to addressing me as a rat in public. I smiled at her. I stepped forward with my basket, perfectly decorated just like Camille's. "I almost didn't remember to arrange something, until father mentioned it. Here is my farewell gift to you both." I soon arrived before them and uncovered the content of my basket. The entire room froze with shock. "Those are rotten fruits!”

Unless… the father’s an artist too? “The father’s an artist?” I ask as she drops the charcoal. “I’ll get it.” I bend down, pick it up, and hand it back to her. “Thank you,” she says, taking it and returning to her work—a basket of fruit. It’s a little rough, but not bad. “Looks good,” I say, heading back to my easel. “Thank you. I thought I’d paint something simple.” “Good choice. I’m painting a puppy.” “Oh, cute,” she says, glancing at mine before turning back to her sketch.

When I establish my business, I'll do my best to pay her in kind for raising me. "Wear a long floral dress if you have one. Also, you'd look better if you tie your hair in a bun and leave a few curled strands out," I looked back from my seat to find Luca and Mamma Lia standing behind me, holding a large tray of fruits. From chopped apples, to pineapples, then watermelons, there were grapes, bananas at the side, some carrots and cucumbers too. "You didn't tell me Luca was going to paint you a portrait," Mamma Lia said to me.

she tells me. "You said that yesterday," I tease her as she kneels down and uncovers the paint pallet in her hands as she starts dipping a fine brush in the green paint, before with gently strokes, adding beautiful, delicate detail to the grass and leaves of the trees and fields in the stunning mural of an open space surrounded by a lushest forest.