The Master and the Pupil

Posted on 28 Jul 2016 @ 7:13am by Ensign Aidan Crehan
Edited on on 29 Jul 2016 @ 4:48am

1,505 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Risky Business
Location: Aidan's Quarters, Holodeck
Timeline: MD 5 || || 1830 hours

Aidan was stretched out on his bed, reading a PADD for an Academy Class called Interspecies Protocol. It wasn't boring, per se, but it had it's challenging parts to drudge through. He chuckled as he thought about how many different species he had met over the decades and how he never had any 'protocol' other than a basic introduction. But still, he put it down and rolled to his side. It wasn't all that late and he'd already had a small dinner. Mila was busy and he had the evening to himself.

Mila. He stared and thought about their conversation a few days ago. Should the Captain approve it when she asks, moving in with Mila would be a big change for him. But it would be a good change. He smiled as he thought of waking up next to her every morning. Kissing her forehead and staring into her hazel eyes as she slowly opened them. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His Printsessa.

Then he thought of that special gift he had been working on during his holodeck time. His mind went to the pencil drawing and his feet took him to his desk where he kept it. Aidan opened the drawer and removed the drawing. It was beautiful, like it's subject. But it was only a drawing. Sure, she would love it, but it was merely the draft of his current project. The master had asked him to bring it, and others, so that he could look them over as a sample of his artwork before he accepted Aidan as a pupil. He could still remember that initial conversation.

“You, Aidan Crehan, have a talent that is beyond your years,” said Mr. van Gogh, in his Dutch accent.

Aidan smiled and replied, “Thank you, master.” He had not told him anything and since he looked human, van Gogh had assumed. “Am I an acceptable pupil?”

Nodding his head, the master painter answered, “You are an acceptable pupil. This talent of your must be properly nurtured if you are to be a painter. I will nurture it. Though, I believe that you are hiding experience from me. You have been a pupil under other artists, yes?”

“I have,” admitted Aidan. “A few, but none of them were painters. I wish to broaden my horizons, stretch my talent and see how I fare.”

“Then let us begin,” said the master painter. “Bring your oils.”

That had only been a few days ago and Aidan wasn't planning on painting a portrait that men like van Gogh were famous for. His canvas was only ten by thirteen in size. The master had recommended nothing more, anyway. The smaller canvas would also benefit Aidan seeing as this was his first time painting, and with oil paints at that. He had messed up many times that first day, or evening, he spent learning. But after watching, studying, and listening to the master for an hour, Aidan had picked up a few tips. He was by no means a van Gogh, but he was learning how to paint. His style may have mimicked that of van Gogh's but it was all Crehan.

Aidan took the drawing and headed to the holodeck. Once he got there, he checked the panel to see if it was in use. Nope. So he input the program he needed and entered. It looked to be about midday as Aidan stepped inside at the doors closed, then disappeared. He was in a sparsely wooded area with a beautiful two-story house at the top of the hill. Down where he was, Aidan saw folding chairs, parasols, containers to hold diluents and media under a few tall trees. And right in the middle of it all was easel with the master painter behind it. Aidan began slowly walking toward him, his almost finished painting with him.

Vincent looked around the easel to see who was making the dry grass crackle under foot. He grinned as he saw his latest pupil coming towards him. “I see that you're back to continue your lessons and your painting.”

“I am,” replied Aidan, as he set up an easel that was leaning against a tree. He then unpacked his painting and put it on the easel. “May I watch you for a bit, sir?”

“Of course!” exclaimed Vincent. “Please, come around and see what I'm working on.” He put down his brush for a moment as his pupil came round. “What do you think?”

Aidan smiled as he thought of how he was actually being asked to comment on a painting by one of Earth's greatest master painters. “It looks wonderful. You're use of the....” He was cut off in mid-sentence.

“No, no, no,” said Vincent. “I am not asking you to comment on the technicality of it. I know all of that. I asked you what you thought of it. Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it,” said Aidan. He was slighty confused about the master's question. Especially as he simply went back to painting. But Aidan stayed and watched him paint for a bit, as he said he would. He was amazing. Aidan knew that he would never be able to paint like van Gogh, but what a teacher he made. Perhaps next, he would study under some under Monet. After about thirty minutes, Aidan went over to his own easel. He wanted to try and finish the oil painting tonight so that it would have time to dry before mounting it in the frame. And since it was only a ten-by-thirteen, he didn't see any reason why he couldn't have it done in a couple of hours.

About two hours later, Aidan was putting a few more brush strokes on the canvas. He felt as though someone were watching him and turned. Standing a few feet away as the master. “Not too many people can do that,” he said. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” answered Vincent. Truth was, he'd been for almost forty-five minutes. His pupil seemed to have come a long way since they first met and began the lessons. And that was one reason he thought that Aidan had some previous teaching. That and the sketches, well drawings, that he brought to show him. The man had lots of talent with the arts. More than what he thought he had.

“Well, what do you think?” Aidan asked, remembering their earlier conversation.

“I like it,” said van Gogh. “I like it very much.” He smiled at his pupil.

Aidan grinned. “That exactly what I meant. I mean, what do you think of it? Does it look done to you?”

“I do not know her,” said Vincent. “This is your painting of your subject. You know her. Take a few steps back.” He took Aidan by the arm and pulled him back. “Is that her smile? Her eyes? Does she look at you that way? Is that how you remember her? How you see her when you think of her?”

Aidan’s smile grew wider all through those questions. “Yes,” he said, “yes to all of them.”

“Then it is done,” said van Gogh.

The two men turned to look at one another. Aidan put down his palette and oil paints. “Thank you, Mr. van Gogh, for your lessons and for the opportunity to paint with you.”

Vincent smiled. “Now, I don't have any frames that would fit the size of your canvas, but this frame,” he said, picking one out and holding it up, “would look magnificent, if you could find one in the village that fits.”

Aidan looked at the frame that van Gogh was holding up. He agreed. It would look magnificent with the painting he just finished. “I shall try to find one in the village then,” he said. Of course Aidan knew that he would never be able to carry anything out of the holodeck. But he had a few more replicator credits left that he could use to replicate one like it. And then have the painting put in it after carefully removing it from the wooden frame it was attached around.

“Very well then,” said Vincent. “Until our next lesson.” He went back to the painting he had been working on as if Aidan was not even nearby.

The El-Aurian then turned to look at his painting. The brush strokes were bigger than he wanted. He could have used a smaller brush. The detail wasn’t there, but then this was impressionist art. But van Gogh was right, it was finished. With that Aidan, packed his oil paints and palette back into their carrying case and gently removed the oil painting from the easel. Even with it’s mistakes, he was sure Mila would still love it.


"July Off-Duty Writing Challenge Entry."

 

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