Ari Dar

sn't ashamed to admit I wasn't sorry. She just doesn't know when to stop. I've always imagined her getting on the nerves of the gods over at Mount Olympu

human encounter to happen that way. It never occurred to me that my blunt honesty could hurt her feelings. I felt really stupid for a guy who has lived hundreds of ye

as each god had a gift. My mother's being beautiful. She was the prettiest god you could ever find. On days we went out, we got stares, and though I consider myself quite the looker, most we

ldn't do anything about it. Paint is the

hcloth and dried my hands. Dark brown eyes stared at my olive hand, the tiny source of happiness I got every

r's shop with the baker yelling at his apprentice, probably for burning bread again. His face flamed up and his temp

door was filled with homeless kids who wanted ice cream but the owner was a major witch, chasing the ki

paintings, and sculptures to complete their studio. So if you have a collection of art that you think would be useful, please sign up for the exhibit. Details are in the description below," stated the nice-looki

ne for the sign-up was in a week. I didn't care about the money I would be getting. I just wanted something to take m

She was likely to find mistakes in them, not like she knew anything about art. The only beautiful art she owned was her face wh

s which I had just finished crossed my mind but I pushed it back. That painting was too personal to let the world see. And Mother would

nted about meaningful things, they were just random images that crossed my mind, most being people down

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of me was appalled when I saw some works. They disrespected art in the vilest manner. I don't even

en insulted if it happened otherwise. The looks on their faces when they saw my work

by really famous painters like Pablo Picasso and others, and their work holds n

Invites were given to me and I was advised to bring a plus one. I just smiled though I kn