As the bell rang out, I cursed my acute designer concepts. After my awkward start at talking to those in the kitchen, I broke down from speech and had returned to my drawing. What only seemed like seconds later, however after looking at the clock I found that it was much longer than that, I found that some sort of meeting was to be held, and that Estelle was at the forefront of it. As people were dragged out of their rooms to see what the commotion was about, I cursed my designer ideas again and flipped my sketchbook closed. Well, time to see what this commotion is about.
As I came into the crowd, I found that this fluctuating mob was surrounding a few choice few. It became apparent that they were explaining who they were and such and such. I found it particularly strange that none of them outright knew each other. Was this not a club of some sorts? Then again, large clubs did tend to disregard personalization due to its sheer size gradient.
My finger tapped on the side of my sketchpad as I tried to force more regulatory nerves to calm themselves. If I allowed my nerves to rule me, I would resort to panic again which in this crowd would only cause more tense feelings. Breathing out, I half mediated to my own tempo. Breathing out, I moved my sketchbook to my right arm and moved closer to the front more or less to listen and learn about the individual persons in the club.
However, my plan to watch was suddenly voided as I was nominated to say a bit of background on myself. Unsure of exactly what to do, I sighed and took the microphone. Looking to everyone else, I felt the nerve rise up in me again, and I found that my hand was bracing the microphone like a metal clamp threatening to break it.
“Hello,” I began as my eyes moved to the void space just above everyone’s heads. I found refuge in not looking directly at people, and slowly my own tempo began to come to the forefront of my mind. “My name is Mear, and I am a smeargle. I am also a traveling artist.” I made somewhat of a crescent motion with my head to nod at the sketchbook still resting under my arm. “I have traveled over many regions drawing different scenes and things.” Oh will my nerves cease to rule my ever beating heart. I was becoming unnerved and unsure of how to fix it.
Bowing my head a moment, I handed the microphone back to Estelle and proceeded away from the looks of the group. Breathing a miniscule sigh of relief at being away from the mass amounts of gazes, I relaxed a bit more and settled back into the crowd. Standing back once again towards the back wall, I continued to watch as people announced who they were and what things they did. The stories were somewhat interesting, but more or less, I grew bored and flipped open my sketchbook. The images of many Gijika all clustered together had strange caused me to want to draw them all. However, I was not going to expose myself once again to see everyone’s forefronts, so I simply settled for drawing people’s backs and things.
It was an interesting new perspective, and yet with newness came the obvious weakness in being able to copy it directly. I soon found myself somewhat frustrated at the picture I had started. Flipping a new page and beginning a new, I once again began to draw all of the Gijika. This try proved to be better, and I was somewhat more satisfied with it. Nodding my head, I continued to draw as the room ever changed by those who moved away from the spotlight and those who moved towards it. I found it quiet interesting that there was such a wide range of different pokemon and ages. I had not expected such young children to be in the house, and with this came strange memories of the young smeargle that often flocked to the elders to try and copy their drawings. I couldn’t help but remember my own endeavors to try and draw perfectly as the elders did. Before more thoughts could posses me, I realized that I had begun to move off in a tangent and had started to not really see what I was drawing.
Looking down at the picture, I found that it had somehow evolved into a picture of a vast amount of smeargle that I had known in the past. We had all been a colony living outside of Lillycove, and we were more of a family than anything else. Sighing to myself, I caught myself thinking about them and shook my head. I had left simply to pursue what a vast majority of smeargle wished to which was to draw and see everything there was to see and reproduce it on paper. Falling to convictions is not something that I personally believed in, and yet it was what I had done, and honestly at that point in time, I had no real regrets about it.
Flipping a new page of the sketchbook, I began once again drawing everyone in the room, and as I returned my attention to the introductions again, I found that I had somehow missed many again. I really do need to pay more attention sometimes. I caught myself staring back at the centered and methodically bit into the head of my red pen. Being resilient to my constant biting, the pen retained its shape as I started using it once again to draw what I was seeing onto the paper.
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^^; oh my you guys really do move fast don't you? I was away for most of the morning, and I come back and there is a lot of new posts. Heh, I must say I really like this club. Anyways, if anyone wants to interrupt Mear's thoughts as he's drawing or something, feel free. Hah~
Mear
and
KC
