Books and Arts

The sound of a buzzing comes from a security camera that over looks a part of a city.  The emptiness of  no one around and the wind blowing through the building makes them sing. In the heart of this city there is a large museum that houses wonders of beauty the arts. Drawings and paintings line the walls of this museum. But as we go on with this story an old man between the ages of 70-90 walks in through the front doors and continues up to the second floor and stops on the fourth left and sits on a bench near a painting on the right wall. His name is Crawley and he lives in this ruin city. He takes a deep breath and releases it. The cameras zoom in on him as he just sits there trying to look at this painting. This one painting only, now you might be asking why only this painting why is this one so special that he travels 50 miles a day to see just this one. The painting was of a  view through the woods and seeing a women standing out in the fields of flowers with arms out to each side with her back to you. Well the painting was special but not because of its beauty no. Crawley speaks to you now. Crawley: Nice to have company, my name is Crawley and the reason that I am here is the painting is telling me a story. The person that painted this wonder of life was my wife who has been gone for sometime now 29 years to be correct. I am old but I live because the world saw me as no threat but others fought nature and she struck back with hate in her heart for the way humans destroyed her green world. Out side there is statues of people trapped in stone forever more. Mother nature took back the world as you can  imagine. The buildings and streets are covered in green plus trees are everywhere. My wife died not from the virus that turned  everyone but from cancer in the brain But that was long before mother nature struck. There was no way to save her but before she died She painted this as a gift to me and told me there is a story for me to see before I die. The story is that she is waiting for me to come home to her and to live happily, but there is another story to tell to all out there who read this. This is my words to you all. stories are not just characters and places. No, when you put a pencil to a blank piece of paper You are not just creating a story, you are creating a world that lives on as we live and breath. Even when we are gone that story remembers you and all that read it. The same  goes for drawing you are creating someone and even creatures too. You might not think so but that being will be maybe become a brother if you are an only child or a lover if you are alone in the world you live in. He or she could be you in the next life or breath you take in. When you draw a being of your creation take responsibility and give them a world and a purpose to live for. Don't let them  suffer in the emptiness of the void. They are your family now love them and dream of them to spending time with them. They will give you strength to over come trials and hardship they will be there for you. well my time runs short so be good and look out for those that need you and a life with a purpose. The room gets dark and mother nature appears and steps towards the old man and covers his eyes. He breathes in one last time and when she removes her hand which is a branch with leaves on it. Crawley sees his wife again standing in the field of flowers waiting for him. He finally dies in the real world to be with his love of his world. Mother nature turns to see the stranger standing there. He kneels in her honor as she puts her hand on his head. She thanks him for seeing the old mans yearning wish to be with his wife.