#time up

"Time up"

Acrylic painting on canvas

Size 50x40 cm

Tell me how it is! It's not for the LGBT fest or anything (ikr shocking) but any feedback would be great!

Once, long ago, in a land long forgotten, there was a princess. She was the pride of her city – her parents loved her, her friends laughed with her, and her people adored her from the bottom of their hearts.

Perhaps, some would say, it was her beauty they all loved. Her smooth skin, the colour of the most expensive cinnamon the traders could buy from neighboring cities. Her hair, deep, silky black as if stained with the finest scholars’ ink, ink made from a hundred different pastes and pigments, blacker than the night sky in the middle of the desert. Her almond-shaped eyes, always lit with joy or mischief or a wise, graceful smile that drew faint crow’s feet in the corners, wisdom that came from love and kindness and experience. Perhaps, it was her fine clothes – edged with gold, embroidered with delicate peacocks and blooming flowers and nature in the midst of spring, rich mulberry, shocking green, sunset yellows and reds and faded oranges – set against her glowing skin and beautiful jewellery, even as she moved it was as if a shimmering world of silken thread moved with her.

Of course not. A wiser one would say, chuckling slowly at the ignorance of his fellow citizen. It’s not just her beauty I love. It’s her character. And indeed, he too spoke nothing but the truth. When the princess smiled, it was a true smile – with hints of fun, and youth, and a life being lived to the full. When she laughed, it was even more real – a laugh like that moment would never come again. She laughed as if she would never laugh again for the rest of her life, living in a whirlwind of passion and light. She spoke with an animated seriousness, treating each second that she was trusted with importance as just that – a trust, one that she had to repay, not a mindless job that could be half-done or passed off to a more-than-willing advisor. She worked night and day, already taking on so many of the responsibilities delegated to the king and queen – tours, inspections, interviews, recruitments, you name it, she had done it. Sometimes, there was the occasional photo of her, exhausted, leaning against the wall or sitting on a garden bench. Her people loved her all the more for it. Whatever she did, they loved her – because she did it with their best interests at heart.

All her little quirks were smiled upon and blessed and occasionally, laughed over. An infamous poet, as often as not it was her fingers, and not her hair, that were stained with the finest scholars’ ink. An intelligent girl, they would say, may god bless her. Her embroidery could rival the palace dressmakers themselves, shimmering thread creating shifting scenes in cloth. Threads, clinging onto her dress, laughed over in the corners of the kingdom, laughter received with a small half-embarassed giggle from the princess as she dusted down her clothes. A good girl, that one, they smiled, it’s good that she has fun while she still can. Everything she did, the people smiled upon her, for it was impossible to do anything else. The princess beautified everything she touched – coaxing music out of even the most worn-down flute, finding a rhythm in the simplest of drums, crafted by a child learning his trade, finding the joy of dance in the bleakest silence. Everything she does, she does it perfectly, they said with love and a hint of an envious sigh.

And as the inky-fingered, thread-covered princess grew up, she lost much that she had once loved. When she became a queen, she lost the freedom she enjoyed so much as a child, lost the time she’d once had to sew beauty into the very fibers of her life, but still: her skin was smooth and dark, her hair was inky black, she wrote her poetry and crafted her music - and still the queen was a happy woman.

For she had all the love of everyone in her kingdom, and their blessings shone down on her like the sun.

I feel like it's a bit long-winded, but idk. Yeah, basically tell me what you think :D

Al menos siempre hay alguien a pesar de lo solo que suelo sentirme.

Si te sientes así, te abrazo, y busca a ese alguien que siempre está 💕