Blank Canvas

• Jasmine Wyber, Grade 7, St Josephs Catholic High School
• Poetry
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

I watched my mum, move her paintbrush so swiftly and precise, throwing her feelings and thoughts into the canvas. The emotions of the beings in the picture, the colours blended, making it look like it was made by God. I was lifted in to a trance of happiness. I loved how she throws her troubles in
with her imagination, she was so detailed. With pen, paper and words she could not but with a brush and a paint palate she could dream. Her paintings looked like print, so exact and lifelike.
I was brought back to Earth by the sound of her voice, I was horrified with myself, my painting, was looked over by Satan, my mother’s by God. I twisted my brush out over the sink watching all the colours of the rainbow disappear into the darkness of the drain. I looked at my mother’s painting once again and to the blank canvas on the floor, and thought how wonderful it would be to be able to throw whatever I wanted into that canvas with no mistakes.
It would be perfect, absolutely perfect to paint like her.
I imagined I was at an auction, my fantastic painting on the easel. Hands going up one by one, the price rising, until the hammer falls. Ten million dollars, sold to the man in the black suit. I shook myself many times and finally I was able to shake myself from this thought.
I stared at my mother’s painting and to mine, how would I live up to the reputation my mother claimed for years? "The Best Painter Out There". My mother walked out of the study with some balloons, she filled them up with paint and tied a knot. She told me to follow her.
A canvas was on the easel in the backyard. The grass splattered with multi-coloured paint. My mother tied the balloons to the canvas and handed me a dart with the Union Jack on it. "Go on, try it", she moved her hand toward the canvas. I threw the dart and it had popped a blue balloon.
The paint splattered onto the canvas, and the grass. "Nice, good job." She said. Soon I had popped every balloon, and saw the magic I created. Finally, something to be proud of. As a surprise my mother sent it off to the local gallery, to be part of the 'Reality Art' competition held in our town every year.
It had been one week since the competition. Arriving home from school I was out of breathe from running after missing my bus. My mother welcomed me home, like she had not seen me in years. She gave me some water and I saw it on the countertop, an envelope addressed to me. I slowly peeled off the top, and in small print it said 'Congratulations, you have won the art competition'.
My heart was beating so fast, I could feel it in my throat.
"CONGRATULATIONS" my mother screamed.