[ TT ] Re-Imagine

The man puts the blank canvas in front of me and steps aside. Still not fully believing how much money I was offered, I nervously ask him: 
 
 “ So… What do you want me to make? ” 
 
 “ Something only you see. Something that could be here, but isn ’ t right now. Paint the world you would like to live in. ” 
 
 The trembling in my hand stops as I take up the brush and palette. All the uneasiness clawing from the inside stops in this one moment. Even my stature changes from this sudden metamorphosis. The man smiles and takes a step back, but I no longer see him. The grey and grim colours all around break like smoked glass to reveal a city that is both familiar and very distant. The bright azure sky crowned with a golden sun unfolds above my head. I can feel the warmness gently caress my skin. It ’ s time to do what I ’ m best at. 
 
 My brush strikes at the canvas with a passionate, but precise swipe. In a mad haze I battle against the white blankness with stroke after stroke. Trying to not miss a single detail, I work relentlessly. It ’ s not just about the grass, the sky or the clouds; it ’ s about the shining power of their colours, the smell of summer, the warm feeling on my body. They must overwhelm the viewer, drag him here and show this grand world. Most painters try to catch the picture; I aspire to catch each and every feeling I experience. Sweat drips down my face; I quickly swipe it away and continue. For a second I wonder if anything else makes you like this, exhausted and rejuvenated at the same time. Maybe making love? For hours I continue to iron out the smallest details, project every minute thing around me. 
 
 The final line completes it all and I step away. Only know I notice I ’ ve been softly laughing for the last minute or so. If this man isn ’ t as overwhelmed with that place as I was, then I ’ ve failed. I exhale and sadly watch everything around the painting melt back into mundane reality. If only I could beg this clear sky to take me with it. I turn around and look at my employer. His official demeanour has completely disappeared. With wide open eyes he makes a few steps and stretches out his hand towards the canvas. After a few moments he finally remembers that I ’ m here and chuckles. 
 
 “ I paid you so much that my accountant couldn ’ t believe this wasn ’ t a joke, but it still feels like I ripped you off, ” he says, back in the ‘ serious business ’ look. 
 
 “ Then perhaps you could give me a bonus by answering one question? Be honest, ” I reply with a satisfied grin on my face. 
 
 “ Of course, anything you say. ” 
 
 “ Well… Why did you pay me that much? It ’ s not like you couldn ’ t get a picture for much less. I used to sell these on the streets for a few bucks and the demand wasn ’ t really overwhelming. Is it just appreciation for my skill? ” 
 
 “ Not really, I was counting on a more long-term relationship. ” 
 
 My shoulders drop as all the joy and confidence disappear completely. I wanted to believe he wouldn ’ t be like this. 
 
 “ Sorry, if that ’ s the only reason you paid extra, then I ’ ll give you back everything beyond the picture ’ s price. I ’ m not going to fill some moneybag ’ s private collection. Anyone should be able to enjoy art, even the poorest. Especially the poorest, ” I snap back while packing up my instruments. 
 
 “ No, you misunderstood me. Anyone will be able to see this beauty, ” he babbles as quickly as possible. 
 
 “ What is that supposed to mean? Who are you anyway? ” 
 
 The man pushes down his tie and unbuttons the collar of his shirt, gasping for air. He no longer looks like someone in control. There is only one word that describes him perfectly right now. Tired. Very, very tired. 
 
 “ I ’ m someone who wanted to change the world, make it better. It was my dream from childhood. Coming from a rich family, I knew that I could climb far enough to where my decisions would truly matter. And so I began to amass wealth and power, but with time greed and pride consumed me. Only now, approaching my fifties, I understood that never started the change, never switched from acquiring power to doing good. And what ’ s more frightening, I forgot how. My ambitions squashed the benevolent vision of the young boy I once was. There was only one way I could continue my dream: find someone who sees how things should and become their tool. I asked you draw the world you see so that I could find something to believe in again. Now, with my help, you can make it real. Everyone will see your art, because they will live in it. This city is your canvas. I will be your brush. And let my influence become the palette. ” 
 
 He extends his hand. I look into the old man ’ s eyes and see behind the exhaustion, behind the usual business attitude, somewhere down there is sincerity. I run up and hug him like a child that embraces their father. With a slight giggle I answer playfully: 
 
 “ Deal. ”
