Gemotions

The smell of paint and turpentine hung heavy in the air. He surveyed the scene: his son, Finn, surrounded by his own chaotic artistic world, painting over his father's previous work. His own portraits had always been carefully crafted, each brushstroke considered. Finn’s style was bold, vibrant, and, frankly, unpredictable. The way Finn was focused, he was absolutely unwilling to allow any criticism. His grip tightened on the edge of the easel. He found himself looking to his son's canvas, searching for a clue, or a code. He had to find what he was looking for.