Gemotions

The weight of the canvas, the smell of turpentine, the quiet focus of the studio. These were the things that defined him. His paintings were normally hung on the walls, meticulously displayed. The studio, his refuge, was now plastered in colourful chaos. His daughter, Olivia, looked up from a large canvas, her face covered in paint. "Daddy, I did it!" she announced. He walked over, looked at the work, the bold strokes, the unapologetic colours. A feeling of lightness lifted inside him and he smiled, and he found himself speechless.