I love my job. I do what I love and people want it. Never do something you love and are good at for free.

I put my mind and soul into what I paint. And today I am only drawing eyes, something that I have had a fascination with since I discovered my love for watercolor. I can do acrylic and even just charcoal or chalk, and I am just as good at it too. But that doesn’t matter. I am also good at things like cooking. But I don’t wake up in the morning with a desire to do it. When I open my eyes for the first time in a new day. My mind immediately flys to my watercolors. It is almost like a craving. I wake up. My heart is pulling me to a blank canvas.

Oh, what a blank canvas promises. There is no limit. And seeing an empty canvas is all it takes for me to find my brushes and fill a cup of water. The water is almost as beautiful. When you first dip a paintbrush into a clear glass of water, the color can do one of two things. It can seem to be silky, like the northern lights before it mixes in. Or it could go like storm clouds, sort of expanding, in a way.

But my first thought of the day, was eyes, watercolor eyes. So when I got up, I opened a canvas, the emptiness filling me with a sort of excitement. And I started sketching. Every great thing is just a sketch at one point. But not for long. Once you add color and take the time to get the colors just right, shade them, and expand, it becomes magical or magnificent even. But the sketch doesn’t fix itself. It takes a lot of work and time.

So that’s what I did. The eyes were large. I imagined they came from a woman. One strong but still kind and loving. Her skin was light and lovely. But obviously the first thing you see are the eyes. The lashes are long and dark. She has a light that fills you with a golden warmth.

But the color, oh the color, they were amber eyes. Open and perfect. It wasn’t normal amber however, they were the kind of amber when the sun hits them at just the right angle. And they are alive, swimming with the perfect mix of gold and a dark brown. Like… I can’t put words to it. Sort of an ocean? Alive and powerful, but at the same time calm and… and… peaceful. Like just one look would make you feel protected and safe.

And you could tell I wasn’t perfect because, one of the eyes was different than the other. The right was more of an orange brown on the inside, closer to the pupil, but they slowly stretched out into a dark brown. With the tiniest bit of a green tint.

The left however, was more of a yellow gold color. And it stayed that way until the tip of the iris, where it turned a solid black. But still looked natural. I looked from a further point of view and you couldn’t tell too much. And I think it was perfect the way it was. It didn’t need to be changed. At all.

It only took me a second to realize. But as I looked into my watercolor eyes, I knew who they belonged too. I stood up and left my paint studio. I ignored the questions of the people working in the same building. I ran. I threw myself into the car and pulled away and drove like it was my last chance.

As soon as I got home, I burst through the door. I dropped my coat on the floor.

And I grabbed her. I held her as if our lives depended on it. Holding her close, every breath coming from her mouth was absolutely perfect. Her laugh almost made me fall apart. I pulled back, just enough to see her smile. And look into her eyes. Her kind eyes that melted me if I looked to long.

“What is all this about?” She asked still smiling.

“I love you.” Was all I could say as I pulled her close again and burried my face in her hair. Her perfect hair.

“I love you too. A lot. But aren’t you supposed to be at work love?”

“Screw work. I love you”

She just smiled and held me tighter. I pulled her off her feet making her laugh even more.

“You are so perfect. Your hair, your smile, your laugh, god your laugh. The way you treat people

And even on your worst days. Your tears are perfect. Your heart is perfect. Your imperfections are perfect. All I could think about today were your eyes. Your perfect, watercolor, eyes.” I ranted unable to say how I felt. No words could describe it.

“Watercolor eyes? Where did you get that from?” She said looking at me happily.

“It doesn’t matter. I could never tell you enough how much you mean to me. I don’t say it enough. I can’t. But I do. God I do.”

He put her hands on my face. Holding my cheek like if she touched it to hard it would break. She pulled me in and our lips met. For a kiss so perfect, it almost beat every other.

———

✍️

Be grateful for those watercolor eyes in your life. I feel like I have been writing negative lately and I want my childhood back please! So I wrote something sweet (hopefully)! I love you guys so much.

I wanted to do grey eyes because in my opinion, grey eyes are the prettiest things in the world. It is a weird obsession! But not as fun for others to read about!

Tried to get back into my description days because those memories>>>

Thank you all for being my watercolor eyes!

Didn’t edit🫣