Two Voices
A young fox dressed in her pink and black punk-rock get-up sits in the middle of a bustling strip in the city. She has several pieces of her work on display with what she considers reasonable prices. She sits in wait as each and every person walks by her without so much as a glance. It's discouraging but she can't let itget to her. She waits, as usual.Finally, a tall deep blue wolf in a scarlet hoodie and jeans notices her work. He crouches down to gain abetter view of a large colored drawing she has framed and propped against her table. Immediately his mind tosses it's opinion into the air like a referee. "God awful.." It says, "The proportions are off, it's messy, it's not worth the price if it's worth anything at all."However, his heart has something else to say. "The work communicates love, sadness, anger, fear, loneliness,and even hatred in one expression. Each stroke is expressive of a fleeting moment in this someone's life, anunheard call, a cry to the world. It's beautiful. It's priceless... Why is she sitting here trying to sell it?"
He picks up the picture and meanders over to the girl, still observing the work. She sits there beginning to feel uncomfortable as the people passing by glance at her and the man staringat her work as if she were a peddler just trying to score some dough and she'd just hooked a fish. Her earstuck behind her head and she begins coiling her bushy tail around the legs of her chair nervously. She wantsto share her work but she never expected to feel so awkward when someone came along that genuinely admiresit, or is criticizing it to the abyss, OH GOD PLEASE NO, she doesn't know what he's thinking.She looks at him and sees only a face bearing slight enthusiasm but his eyes don't seem to be focused onthe drawing itself. He looks like he's daydreaming. She begins to wonder if he's just high or really thatenthralled by it."So, Amber, You want $5 for this..." he finally says."Uh.. not exactly. I don't really know.." She responds uncomfortably."Alright, then." He says, continuing to observe the piece.He stands in silence for a few more moments before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a $20 bill, "Here."
"..This is a--""Yep.""Uh, ok. Thanks...?"As he turns to walk away, she quickly asks, "Hey, are you even gonna look at me? I drew that, you know.""I am looking at you." He says, disappearing into the river of people rushing by.She sits contemplating what just took place, feeling more awkward than she did sitting here to begin with.People quickly brush past her as they did before, without a glance.Realizing she has better things to do with her time, she picks up and leaves, pulling her post-it note pricetags off her frames.
On her way home, she stops by the art supply shop she frequents and spends that$20 on new pencils, the colored pens she's wanted, and a new sketchbook.