learn english

author : dunkmoonX
In an elitist society known as The Art World, people are distinguished by their artistic skills. People who have great talents, who are basically Artists, lived more luxuriously than those who do not, called the Non-Artists. Non-Artists are always discouraged by artists in harsh ways. Artists would criticize, or sometimes even destroy their amateur works of art. The only thing keeping the Non-Artists from giving up their life is the hope that they would someday become a respected Artist.

Other than its notable separation of societies, The Art World is a place unlike any other. The seven continents on this earth were named after each color of the rainbow. Filled with streets and houses on land, each are painted in different shades of color. In a particular small indigo house, there lived a boy named Pencil. This little fellow wanted to become an artist like his idol thus naming himself after Pen, one of the most famous Artists in The Art World.

Nothing could stop Pencil in his journey of becoming like his idol. Similar to Pen, Pencil wanted his own arts to be featured to everyone. Ignorant of how Artists truly behaved in society, Pencil was one of the few Non-Artists who continued to work hard for his dream. He wanted to inspire and encourage others to do their own artwork.

During a school day, Pencil’s eyes caught sight of an announcement on his school’s bulletin. It was a paper publicizing a new exhibition that would take place next week in the museum nearby the school. The exhibition held Pen as the guest for an entire month. Filled with excitement, Pencil could not resist but to doodle on his notebook. He believed that this would be the plentiful of drawings that he would show to his idol.

When school ended, Pencil greeted his father as he held the notebook in his hand. “Hey dad, want to look at my artwork?”

“Sure son, let me see.”

The father of Pencil folded his colorful newspaper and placed it onto the table. Taking the notebook from Pencil’s hand, the father looked at each and every picture. The drawings consisted of black and white stick figures with hints of the colors from the rainbow. If these drawings were shown to Artists, it would be ridiculed.

“What are these for, son?” The father questioned.

“It’s for that new exhibition coming up in the museum showing Pen.” Pencil explained. “I want to become an Artist like him!”

The father handed back the papers, encouraging Pencil. “If you continue to practice and work hard, I’m sure Pen will notice your artistic works.”

“Thanks dad.”

Every minute was not to be wasted on Pencil’s clock. He furiously drew, outlined, sketched and colored on whatever artwork that came to his mind. Whatever his imagination would think of, he would illustrate it on paper. Any shapes, sizes and of different types of lines, Pencil would practice his heart out. He knew from his father that Artists appreciate art that showed the virtue of time.

The day of the exhibition arrived and every Non-Artist who worshipped Pen around town visited the museum. A long line traveled from the inside and even to the outside of the museum’s doors. Pencil patiently waited in line to see his idol. Even though Pencil knew it would take hours to see Pen, it was worth the wait.

When Pencil finally was in turn to visit Pen, he was ecstatic. “Hi, my name is Pencil! And I’m your fan! I love your artwork.”

“Why, hello.” Pen replied without looking up, grabbing a pen and signing a piece of paper with his signature to give to Pencil.

“Uhm—I want you to see my own kind of artwork, it was inspired from yours.” Pencil placed his notebook onto the table.

“Your own kind of artwork?”

Desiring to scorn these amateur works, Pen looked up to see who the fan was. A small kid, he thought. Pen took the notebook and flipped through the pages in a haughty manner, not even glancing long enough. “Well, are these even artworks? It looks like drawings of a preschooler.”

Pencil flinched. “W-what makes you say t-that?”

“Just look at these pieces of failure!” Pen ripped a page from the notebook. He held it with his hand and pointed at errors. “Look at these lines, scrawny! Where are the colors? Shading? What is this even supposed to be? This is The Art World! Creativity is key!”

Pen continued to fire questions at poor Pencil, who instead of being on the verge of tears as most would have, was intently listening to the criticism his idol gave him. Even though he was slightly cringing inside his heart, Pencil made notes in his head on what to improve on. When Pen finished his battering, he tore Pencil’s artwork into shreds of paper.

Pencil simply said. “I will do better next time.” Then he left the museum.

At night Pencil was lying on his bed on his chest with a pencil on his hand and a stack of papers in front of him. Everyone in the house was fast asleep and only he had stayed up late to practice his drawing. From hearing Pen’s criticizing, Pencil strived to become like him.
Little did Pencil know, his father was still awake at night. He peeked inside Pencil’s bedroom and saw his son working on artworks in low shady light. The father turned on the room’s light and sat down on the bed next to Pencil.

“Son, I heard of what happened in the museum.” Pencil’s father started.

“I’m okay.” Pencil faced his father and sighed. “I just want to become an Artist like Pen.”

“In life there will be many obstacles that will hinder our dreams, let it be known to you a lesson that I have learned over the years.” The father continued. “Every painful sharpening in life will make you better.”

The father patted his son’s tuft of hair. “Know this however, that like pencil you are able to erase its mistakes, but unlike pen, you are not able erase its mistakes.”

“Good night son.” Pencil’s father stood up to leave the room. “I hope you learn from the lessons I have told you.”

The next month passed by and Pencil persevered with constant practice of his arts. Week by week his father checked and reviewed his work, seeing a vast of improvement. Pencil couldn’t wait to show his new pieces of artwork to Pen before he left the exhibition.

During the last day of the exhibition, there were plenty of people in line, more than there was during the first day. Many Non-Artists hoped to get a last minute visit to the famous Pen. Pencil, who still highly regarded Pen as his idol, welcomed whatever new criticism Pen might tell him. He knew that criticism would help him better in his arts.

“Hi, my name is Pencil,” Pencil introduced himself again. “I’ve been here before when I showed you my artwork.”

“Oh, you.” Pen remembered the amateur’s voice. “Here again? To see how great my arts are?”

“Actually, I wanted to show you my new pieces of artwork.” Pencil handed him his new notebook as Pen took it from him and flipped through the pages once more. Pen looked in astonishment. What kind of works are these, he thought. Why do they look so...

“Fantastic! Who drew these?” A person from behind looked over Pen’s shoulder to the notebook. “Wow! Maybe even better...”

Other Non-Artists gathered more to see this phenomenon. Pen was furious at the people gathering at what he thought was an amateur’s works. Trying to vandalize the notebook with a permanent marker, Non-Artists had stopped Pen just in the time. Everyone started to praise Pencil’s works. There were original pieces not seen by any Artist or Non-Artist from the world.

Pencil’s father heard of his success and told Pencil the last lesson before he should became famous. “The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.”

From showing Pen his works, Pencil grew famous from his arts. He continued to idolize Pen until he realized of the true nature behind Artists in The Art World. Pencil had become an Artist himself, changing society for the better and encouraging Non-Artists to become Artists; breaking the separation of societies altogether. Praised by people for his artwork, Pencil lived happily at home with his family, knowing that his dream of being an Artist had come true.