Gemotions

The crisp autumn air filled the art studio. Clara stood before her easel, the canvas displaying the beginnings of a landscape painting. The colors of the season were vibrant around her, mirrored in the pigments on her palette. She carefully dabbed a brush into a tube of crimson, the smell of turpentine a familiar comfort. A new email notification popped up on the computer screen.

She knew what it was. Scholarship results. She wasn't overly anxious, mostly accepting of whatever happened. She looked at the words. She won the scholarship! Relief washed over her. Then, another name. A mistake. A different person. Her shoulders were relaxed.

She put down her brush, the brush cleaning a methodical movement. She looked at the half-finished canvas, the bold strokes of color. She looked at her palette. She began to mix the colors, adding a touch more blue to the sky, adding a little more contrast to the tree line. The rhythm and focus came back.