Rainbow High Art Novels & Stories

Bert asked, standing next to the painting he’d been working on. Rain stepped around where she could see. It was her. Though he’d used non-traditional colors for most everything except her hair, which still looked different since it was painted in an array of oranges and reds, it was still obvious the figure, painted in yellows, greens, and blues, was her--looking up at the Gate, which was located in the background, painted in a deep blue with a twinkle of sunlight glinting off of it. “Wow!” Rain’s hands went to cover her mouth. She was at a loss for words. “That’s… incredible!”

Henry whispered into her hair. A group of men and ladies smartly dressed in black and white carefully wheeled in a series of paintings, sculptures and other art equipment. They placed them on display where everyone could see them. Eve sat up and when Henry turned to look at her, she had a dropped jaw. "What are you looking at?" She didn't look at him. She directed his gaze to a rainbow painting on display. "You like it?" Eve nodded repeatedly. Her full attention was on the art. "It looks colourful and alive. It's beautiful and almost seems like a real rainbow."

a bouquet and diary from her bag, she keeps looking at the stuff, sadly. It upsets him that the cute baby is sitting there, sulking like that. He moves towards her, thinking how his efforts can make her mood light, so he sits in front of her. “Hey, why are you sad?” She looks at him with her doe eyes. “My mom has forbidden me to share my personal problems with an unknown person.” He chuckles at her cuteness. “Still, we can befriend, and people can share their problems with their friends.” “Sorry, my mom won’t allow me to make friends with an unknown person.” “Your mom is not wrong, but I’m Jacob Kyler.” He spreads his hand towards her to shake hands with her. “I’m Rainbow; nice to meet you,

Harry said. “That’s really great, I’d love to read her books” Cummins said. “Yeah she’d give you some copies, the arts though, most of them are works by several high school students, some of them here in Denver, while others are in Colorado , Springs, me and Leah sometimes help conduct art competitions in their high schools, where we pick the best three artworks, buy the works from the artists, and offer them scholarships to top arts schools in the country, you know our ways of giving back to the society” Harry said.

All, that is, except one, the old man we called the Rainbow Man. It was no great mystery how he got that name, because he was to all outward appearances a walking rainbow. He had an obsessive love of brightly coloured pieces of cloth, the brighter the better, and gaudy costume jewellery of all kinds, and knowing this people would give him their unwanted garishly coloured curtains or chair covers or scraps of fabric, or the play-jewellery that their children had outgrown; partly out of kindness and partly out of curiosity to see what use the Rainbow Man would find for them. For the Rainbow Man was an artist, and his canvas was himself. He would find ways to wrap gaily coloured pieces of old f

I watch in awe inside of Rain's office. Rain was sitting on his office chair and giving full attention on the monitor in front of him on the table and a scratch papers with pencil on the other side of the table and across of his office chair there was two brown arm chair and in his back was a huge clear glass window that I could see what was happening outside and on the right corner was the huge air conditioner of the room.His walls was also glass but it has some windows which are being closed by an open-close curtain and on my back full of different manga scene and drawings too and there was a long rustic table below which was full of different art materials that are needed for an artist. "

His deep pink lips parted. “Shane Harley sir.” He introduced himself, sticking his hand out. Mr. Davis had no problems shaking it. Mr. Spencer followed by example. “I’m Raine’s… I mean, Ms. Mcclaren’s shadow for the next few months.” Mr. Davises face beamed. “You should consider yourself a lucky kid!”

For us, it is a hailstorm and then some light sprinkle of rain. But something is fucking always happening. Grabbing my half-filled glass, I slide out of the stool and move away from the crowd, my eyes on the art lining the wall. It is an arts party, organized by some really wealthy man who sends in impossible donations to the school. His wealth blooms on the walls, covered with pieces made by popular artists, like Da Vinci. This has to be a bloody museum because a gasp escapes my lips each time I lean a little close, trying to catch the scribbled signature.

she replied, adjusting the umbrella in her hand. He smiled faintly. “Seems I can’t stay away from this place.” Aria spotted her from across the room and came running. “Mommy! Mr. Blackwood helped us make rain paintings!” “Rain paintings?” Elena asked, crouching to her daughter’s level. Aria nodded, holding up a dripping sheet of paper. Streaks of watercolor bled into one another — blues, greens, yellows. “See? The rain helps mix the colors. Mr. Blackwood said sometimes messes make beautiful things.”

Scarlet stared at it, her eyes trailing the creativity, the scenery was beautiful, it was a moonlight painting, a beach, Scarlet could hear the waters crashing against the seashore while the wind whistled around her ears and blew through her hair and clothing, caressing against her soft skin while the fresh smell of nature invade and cloud her senses while the moon was illuminated and glazed brightly from above, turning the waters into a sparkling mess. The painting was a definition of soothing and Scarlet could feel its effect. Her eyes landed below the painting where she saw the artist's signature, carved as XZ, familiar as she had seen a lot of his paintings and they were to die for, he k