Ari-chann

 The scent of paint hung heavily in the air, undisturbed by the ventalation leaking through old shafts along the baseboard. A canvas, wide and mocking, sat empty in the center of the floor. Paints lay about its base, caps unscrewed and contents on everything from the floor, to the walls, to the young woman standing before the blank page. She shifted her weight to her other foot as though studying it from a different angle would help. She wasn't dressed up special for the occasion -one of her few trips to her upstairs art studio- deciding on a black tanktop, smudged with a rainbow of colors, and torn jeans. Her hands show the fruits of her l