skeleton

I'm in a new, high-tech startup digital art gallery with a friend. It's small, with a reception desk straight from the entrance, and only a few metres of space on each side. There are fake vines hanging from the ceiling and windows, and fake plants lining the brick walls, giving a very sort of indie cafe look.
There are screens displaying impressionist artworks, mostly Claude Monet. My friend and a few other visitors in the building are looking at these works on the huge screens, and as they do that I begin to take a look around the building. To the right of the reception desk, tucked away in a corner, is a little shelf with a couple of small screens showing fan submitted artworks, each with their own paragraph long descriptions next to them. Most of the drawings are children's drawings submitted by their parents, or amateur paintings/sketches done by visitors. As the drawings cycle through every couple of minutes, I absentmindedly read their descriptions and pick out my favourites from each cycle, until one catches my eye.

It's a small, vertically long sketch with limited colour. Down the middle of the page is a sidewalk with hopscotch on it, outside of a cafe with tables and chairs out the front. On the other side of the sidewalk is lush, green shrubbery. Sunlight is streaming through the leaves and pouring onto the sidewalk in little white splotches. At the top of the sidewalk strolls a young girl in a long white lace dress, with brown hair and a white sunhat. At the bottom of the sidewalk, where the hopscotch is, is two lion cubs playing, one with a sun for a head, and the other with a moon. It is the most beautiful artwork I have ever seen.
Then I look closer at the drawing and see it's been done completely on lined workbook paper, with nothing more than a blue pen and some coloured markers. I'm stunned. Something so engulfing had been done by some student, doodling in their notes, without a thought about it.

As I stare at the drawing, the cycle reloads again, and another takes its place. I panic, I don't want it to go yet, I have to find it again. I try to find an author's name, but the descriptions have cycled out. I go to the gallery's website and find a list of all the authors that had recently been displayed in the fan corner, and find the artist's name. I'm so happy that I get to see it one more time, and then I woke up.

I was actually quite mad that it was a dream. The whole night I thought it was real, and I was just as worried when I woke up that I'd lost the drawing again as I was in my dream, even more so that I would never be able to find it because it wasn't real. But then a few hours later I realised that the artwork I was so obsessed with came from my mind, in my imagination, meaning I would be able to recreate it. I'm so lucky to have the ability to create art, I wish I could live forever so that I could dream and create and dream all over again.