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."

Why are you acting so weird? Rainbow : no nothing. I'm not avoiding you, I'm...i didn't... do anything at all Blue : when you act this way, you've done something crazy. What did you do this time Rain? She tried to swim away but Blue held her hand Blue : tell me Rainbow : I threw away your shell. I broke it deliberately Blue : whaaaaat! Blue was really angry with Rainbow She yelled at her and swam away angrily Rainbow began to cry She went home and stayed there all day

Within the dream library, Hazel found herself surrounded by a kaleidoscope of artistic energy and creativity, each color and shape pulsating with a life of its own. The air was filled with the hum of inspiration, the energy of imagination swirling around her like a symphony of artistic passion. As she journeyed through the vibrant tapestry of colors and forms, Hazel felt a deep connection to her inner artist, a wellspring of ideas and emotions waiting to be translated into visual poetry. Each brushstroke, each daub of pigment, each stroke of her hand on the canvas held the power to capture the essence of her thoughts and feelings, bringing to life a world of beauty and meaning.

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. "

“Ahem.” “Raine,” she said, trying to not reveal that I had startled her. “Sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.” “I see,” I said with a smile, as I took a few steps to now stand behind her. I put my hands on her shoulders as I took a glance at her work space. The start of her PowerPoint had two words. Barber Shop. Oh lord, I thought. A mom and pop shop? There was no way they’d be able to afford us. Then again, it was wrong of me to jump to conclusions. Maybe Karen knew something that I didn’t. “Looking good.” I tried to motivate her. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” Karen was a really good idea person. At least when it comes to the colors. What goes, what doesn’t? What demands

His question takes me by surprise, but I don't hesitate to answer. “This one time when my mother and I were at an art exhibition, we were discussing the beauty of a particular piece of art. It was a mother and a daughter drawing an incomplete rainbow.” I say as tears trickle down my cheek, “That night, we bought the painting, unframed it, and completed the rainbow, and she promised me that she’d always be there for me.” He sits down on the bed and pulls me close to him. It feels like I’m dreaming, my head feels slightly dizzy.

For a moment I toy with the idea of telling her, but something stops me. So I mumble awkwardly, “There um ... I can do something I need.” “What do you need there?” “Him,” I blurt out. She looks at me in silence. She tries to read in my eyes what I actually mean. Finally she says, “He's gone, and he never will be there …” With a shrug I end the conversation. Tomorrow I will leave. *** The rainbow colours lift me from the boat bench by the lake. The colours sparkle around me like sunlight in the water. It's like I'm breaking free from my body, as it floats in the spaceless space.

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.