Gemotions

The weight of the paintbrush felt comfortable in Michael’s hand as he swirled it across the canvas. It was his birthday, the same as his friend, Ethan, who was preparing a large outdoor event. Michael, though, was happier to be alone with his art.

He inhaled the scent of turpentine and oil paints, a scent that was familiar and grounding. He lost himself in the movement of his brush, the colors blending and merging on the canvas.

Hours passed. As the sun set, he stepped back to admire his work. A quiet sense of achievement settled over him.