'Then what? ', he asked himself in frustration at the thought as he slapped the book shut and broke away from his gaze, tossing the little book onto the yellow couch along with the denim jacket and grabbing the large paint brush and his oil paints with the intention of mixing some colours in order to achieve the deep green he wished to use in his background; once done, he used the brush to lather the canvas with his colour of choice whilst using the turps to smoothen it out.
The wide strokes made him feel free and calm despite his muse, he used this time to calm his mind despite his heart's pain, as if he was building a coffin for his lost loved one. To him it was a loved one lost indeed, but Rowland carried on for, his strong feelings didn't just wither away as he'd hoped, and he couldn
