frankie
Storyboard Description
frankie story life
Storyboard Text
- I went to mum and dad to show them the picture I just drew. Instead of them smiling and being joyful at the family portrait I drew, dad ripped it up and threw it in the bin. He grabbed me by the arm and sat me down on the hardwood dining room table. Placed in front of me were thick textbooks and just one single lead pencil
- As I saw the kids playing and running around while laughing, I sat unbeneath the old ole tree that I somehow grew a close attachment to, beginning a new artwork that was once again inspired by nature. Drawing at home almost felt illegal because of mum and dad, being forced to become something I don't want to become has been pressuring me all my life. Classmates and other students have been staring a little too long, it seems like I can’t even have peace in school.
- I messed up, I failed our chemistry test. Even though this was my first failed attempt in chemistry I know they won’t go easy on me. I slowly approach my front door, ready to face the consequences of my failed test. Dad pulls me in, forcing me to sit across from him, with mum by his side, I'm once again faced with two disappointed faces. Reverting from their death stares, I get yelled out by dad asking me about my test, only to see that their son is sitting there quiet and unable to respond.
- My eyes were fixed on the paper in front of me. My pencil lightly sketched the scene that I saw through my glasses. I was surrounded by the sound of kids playing, people talking and the birds chirping. As I deeply inhaled and smelt the fresh air that was around me. I looked up from my position and the sounds I previously heard had a visual to them. The sound of kids playing was the kids running around and playing in the park’s playground. The sound of birds chirping was by the birds that were standing tall on the park bench that was two benches to the left of me. The people talking were the parents of the children. I look back down to my sketch as the thoughts of having a loving and supporting family consume me.
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- I don’t know what I was thinking. I called the man and met him in front of his office. He told me that he really appreciates my art and watching his art is going to inspire me to start being open about my art. All I felt was uncertainty. As I entered the office, the smell of the paint was the first thing I smelt. It was something I haven’t felt in a long time. The whole place was quiet. No talking. All that could be felt against my fingers was the used canvas that had vibrant colours displayed, the combination of objects creating a whole picture. Looking around the office, it seems that hundreds of artworks were made by just a single man. I felt my heart beating so fast. It was never like that before. What is this feeling? Motivation?
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