Setting
INK
Trinity "C.C." Vargas
A set of horns played aloud into a girl's ears, causing her to open her eyes and catch sight of a large artwork filled with iridescent letters and illustrations.
The Latina girl, named Trinity, planned on pulling an “all-nighter” as some would say, but sometime between 2:00AM and sunrise, she dozed off on the couch in the painting studio. Being an artist takes plenty of dedication, patience, and energy, as it seemed. Trinity took a quick yawn, stretching her arms and back to loosen any knots, or hear any pops and cracks. Her hair was in a disarrayed ponytail after shifting positions on the couch so much. She still wore the clothes she had on the night before: a black long-sleeved shirt, and light gray sweatpants covered in various colors of paint. The windows were still open so the fumes from her spray cans could escape the room.
The Latin rhythmic sounds of Joe Bataan playing in the background set the scene for the studio. “Gypsy Woman” was a song that Trinity truly admired, as well as admiring the musician because of how much his life compared to hers; living in a neighborhood of hardship and struggle with nothing but gangs surrounding every corner. The use of the arts was his way to escape from the neck of the woods into a better lifestyle, which Trinity plans on achieving for her family.
Trinity stood up from the couch, admiring her cool-colored canvas. “Serenidad” she called it. Wanting to display this sense of “serenity” a large butterfly blending into the splatters of rich violet and blue hues. This was something that she had never done before, but the meaning of the artwork she had on her mind ever since she was born.
While it was unfinished, Trinity was relieved enough to work on it since her Spring semester had ended, and she was finally on Summer Break. School was interesting to say the least, and it somewhat distracted with her art, so this was like her therapy, but for today, she was needed some breakfast, and knew exactly where to go.
She opened up her backpack revealing a change of clothes. A more “settling attire”: a deep blue trapeze tanktop, white summer shorts, and blue Nike tennis shoes to display some sort of color coordination.
After letting her hair down, and putting on some lip gloss, she closed the windows, turned off her radio, as well as the lights in the studio, and made her exit from the building into the New York cityscape. Walking a few corners from the building lead to the entrance of a subway station. Practically living in New York has benefited her into knowing the locations and destinations around the city by subway.
With Trinity's headphones relaxed around her ears, Joe Bataan still played in her head as she strolled down the stairway to the underground station. The pedestrians were at full storm this morning, so slithering around the crowd wasn't as effective as it usually was, but she still managed to make it closer to the front before the train could arrive. All she had to do was wait.
A set of horns played aloud into a girl's ears, causing her to open her eyes and catch sight of a large artwork filled with iridescent letters and illustrations.
The Latina girl, named Trinity, planned on pulling an “all-nighter” as some would say, but sometime between 2:00AM and sunrise, she dozed off on the couch in the painting studio. Being an artist takes plenty of dedication, patience, and energy, as it seemed. Trinity took a quick yawn, stretching her arms and back to loosen any knots, or hear any pops and cracks. Her hair was in a disarrayed ponytail after shifting positions on the couch so much. She still wore the clothes she had on the night before: a black long-sleeved shirt, and light gray sweatpants covered in various colors of paint. The windows were still open so the fumes from her spray cans could escape the room.
The Latin rhythmic sounds of Joe Bataan playing in the background set the scene for the studio. “Gypsy Woman” was a song that Trinity truly admired, as well as admiring the musician because of how much his life compared to hers; living in a neighborhood of hardship and struggle with nothing but gangs surrounding every corner. The use of the arts was his way to escape from the neck of the woods into a better lifestyle, which Trinity plans on achieving for her family.
Trinity stood up from the couch, admiring her cool-colored canvas. “Serenidad” she called it. Wanting to display this sense of “serenity” a large butterfly blending into the splatters of rich violet and blue hues. This was something that she had never done before, but the meaning of the artwork she had on her mind ever since she was born.
While it was unfinished, Trinity was relieved enough to work on it since her Spring semester had ended, and she was finally on Summer Break. School was interesting to say the least, and it somewhat distracted with her art, so this was like her therapy, but for today, she was needed some breakfast, and knew exactly where to go.
She opened up her backpack revealing a change of clothes. A more “settling attire”: a deep blue trapeze tanktop, white summer shorts, and blue Nike tennis shoes to display some sort of color coordination.
After letting her hair down, and putting on some lip gloss, she closed the windows, turned off her radio, as well as the lights in the studio, and made her exit from the building into the New York cityscape. Walking a few corners from the building lead to the entrance of a subway station. Practically living in New York has benefited her into knowing the locations and destinations around the city by subway.
With Trinity's headphones relaxed around her ears, Joe Bataan still played in her head as she strolled down the stairway to the underground station. The pedestrians were at full storm this morning, so slithering around the crowd wasn't as effective as it usually was, but she still managed to make it closer to the front before the train could arrive. All she had to do was wait.