sakari (sakari) wrote in avatarnation, @ 2009-09-27 19:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | basim, sakari |
Who: Sakari and OTA
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: The City Center
What: Painting and maybe some talking to strangers
She might not have been an earthbender, but Sakari could mend ropes and fabric and fix furniture and sweep up broken glass as well as any, and after she'd run out of things to tend to at home, she'd spent her after-school hours helping with minor repairs around the city. For the most part she'd enjoyed the work. Occasionally she'd been paid, but mostly Sakari was just happy to keep busy and her mind off of the fact that she was in a strange, big city with no friends and only one relative. The earthquake had been two weeks ago, though, and while the city wouldn't erase every mark of the disaster for some time, the number of odd jobs for a young nonbender had petered out. As a result Sakari had been left with far more free time than she'd been comfortable with.
Fortunately, she'd also been left with a pocketful of money, even after she'd bought a lamp to replace the one that'd shattered all over her floor and slipped a few coins into Isska's purse while her sister was in the bath. It wasn't nearly enough to replace all the paints, brushes, canvases, and assorted other equipment Sakari had abandoned when she'd fled to Awatan Sathit, but she'd been able to purchase a small collection of inks, some pencils and brushes, and a couple of sketchbooks.
Originally, Sakari had intended to rush home and try out her new equipment, but when she'd stepped out of the shop, the morning light on the fountain in the city center had caught her eye, and Sakari had settled onto an empty bench instead.
Nearly three hours had passed since then, and except for a brief break to find a food vendor and buy a handful of fried somethings that she'd gulped down almost too quickly to taste, Sakari hadn't left her bench. She'd finished the first painting, a painting of the fountain in broad, simple ink strokes, some time ago and moved onto a handful of charcoal sketches of people and a monkeybird. None of them were terribly detailed-- she'd done each too quickly to do more than capture the general shape and a few key details of each of her subjects-- but they'd freeze the memory for her if she decided to a do a more detailed picture later, and they let Sakari refamiliarize herself with the feel of a brush or pencil in her hand.
She hummed absently to herself as she sketched the shadows of a shop's awning. Not too long yet, she'd have plenty of time to continue drawing before dinner.