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With the arrival of fall, Astrid was back to pursuing life at a normal high school, which still felt oddly quaint after Fandom High, though that place, like living with Starr, like perhaps even living with her memory, was starting to fade, even with its recent attempts to reinstate itself into her memory. Everything with Claire and Ron was so...strangely perfect that she feared at every turn it would be ripped away from her, like it was all a mistake, like she didn't deserve it, and it would all end, so she leaned into it, tried to embrace it for all it was, while she still could.
She'd been signed up for honors classes again, and also some art classes at the museum. Claire made her think it was worth trying. Of course you took the honors classes. Of course you wore your jewelry. Of course you signed up for art classes at the museum. Of course.
( Of course... )
Astrid dipped a small sumi brush into a bottle of ink, and in a few strokes she inked in arcs and lines, a black spot. Her violence. Claire, what did you know about violence? Ingrid’s strength?
Well, she wasn’t strong enough to avoid being the background of Astrids art. Just the background. Her words just her canvas.
[[ from Chapter 17 of White Oleander by Janet Fitch. We're getting things in motion now, so expect quite a bit more coming up from Astrid soon! NFB, obvs, but open if anyone wants to poke or send some calls or correspondance her way ]]
She'd been signed up for honors classes again, and also some art classes at the museum. Claire made her think it was worth trying. Of course you took the honors classes. Of course you wore your jewelry. Of course you signed up for art classes at the museum. Of course.
( Of course... )
Astrid dipped a small sumi brush into a bottle of ink, and in a few strokes she inked in arcs and lines, a black spot. Her violence. Claire, what did you know about violence? Ingrid’s strength?
Well, she wasn’t strong enough to avoid being the background of Astrids art. Just the background. Her words just her canvas.
[[ from Chapter 17 of White Oleander by Janet Fitch. We're getting things in motion now, so expect quite a bit more coming up from Astrid soon! NFB, obvs, but open if anyone wants to poke or send some calls or correspondance her way ]]
