Page 19 of Fruit
“What’s up?”
“It’s just not…” He makes a frustrated noise. I peer at his drawing, seeing the features of the face are a little misaligned.
“Yeah, that happens. What helps me is breaking down a picture in parts. Like, when we draw something, we tend to think about it as a whole, right? And sometimes we can get a bit caught up in that, and it helps to break it down into its different elements independently of each other, and then seeing how they relate to each other in space.
“So, instead of eyes, think of these as ovals a certain space from each other, and it’ll be easier to copy. See how you’ve got them a little further apart than in the picture? And see the line of the forehead, how yours angles a little further? When you’re copying something—when you’re learning—concentrate on the angles and spatial relationships between elements first. Once you get those down, you can start being creative and develop your own style, you know? Get a good foundation under you before you start to build, basically.”
Joshua doesn’t reply, but he scraps his drawing and starts again. I try not to be obvious as I watch him, but I spot him lifting his eyes at me questioningly when he’s finished with the outline of the face and eyes. He doesn’t verbalise the request, but I turn towards him.
“Yes! You got it. Look at the shape of your pupil. Nice and smooth. Perfect. Now, when you do the hair, make sure all the lines match each other. I know that’s not how hair is actually like, but it’s the style.”
“Okay.”
His hair comes out perfectly, but his rose is a little messed up. I see his face darken at once, his jaw clenched.
“You know, I used tohatemaking mistakes. I mean, it sucks. But it’s honestly the best part of drawing,” I say casually.
Joshua throws me a look.
“Okay, not thebest, but it’s good, ’cause, like, it’s literally the best way to learn. And can you imagine if you didn’t make any mistakes? It’d literally mean you’re never stepping outside of your comfort zone or learning anything new. You’d have to draw the same face over and over again. Sounds pretty freakin’ boring to me,” I say, looking down at my drawing.
I see Joshua shrug from the corner of my eyes, but I spot him drawing a few roses on the side of the page. I smile to myself.
We move onto contrast and he draws a woman’s face in blue, red-framed and orange-tinted glasses perched over her eyes.
“That’sperfect. Those pink lips are great,” I say.
“Thanks,” he says, shrugging, a smile on his mouth. I grin back.
I lose track of time. When I look up, I realise there’s another boy around Joshua’s age standing not far from us, looking at us draw. His eyes are large and dark, matching his brown hair and tan-coloured skin.
“Oh, hey,” I greet.
“Hey,” the boy says shyly.
Joshua looks up, looking a little startled, but relaxes when he sees the boy. “Hey, Hugo.”
“Hey. I thought you’d left,” Hugo says quietly.
“Nah. I woulda said goodbye,” Joshua replies with a slightly teasing look on his face. It’s the most expression I’ve seen on him since the anger on the subway train.
“Right,” Hugo says.
Joshua looks at me and I cap my pen. “You want to wrap it up?” I ask him.
“Sure.” He looks a little uncertainly at the pens and papers on the table.
“They’re yours. That way I can see what you’ve drawn next time I’m here. If you want.”
Joshua shrugs but nods.
Hugo clears his throat. “You don’t gotta stop. I just wanted to see where you were,” he says.
“It’s fine,” Joshua replies.
We put the stuff away. I watch how carefully Joshua treats the pens, ordering them by colour as he slots them into their packaging.
“Have fun,” I say as Joshua picks up the canvas bag. Again, he shrugs, but he looks at me briefly.
