She was Art

She never looked nice,she looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice ; it is supposed to make you feel something.

I once sat by a man in a public park around the Accra central station, he was an artist or sort.He was busily scribbling something or someone on a rough piece of paper.It got me curious to want to know what it was he was sketching.After a while i realised it was a young girl (hawker selling by the street), even though she kept moving his eyes followed her in every direction and with steady hands he drew her just as if she was standing still.

I asked him with a smile on my face “are you a real painter?”.He laughed hard as he continued drawing this girl.I laughed too but i didn’t know why i was laughing.
After sometime he turned to me and said “boss why u dey ask?” meaning why did i ask him that question.I explained to him how i didn’t first get was he was drawing and how i felt when the image turned out so well.He smiled, and told me how he wakes up everyday trying to come out with a masterpiece.He spoke twi which i didnt really understand very well but i got the basics.

To this painter this girl selling by the street was art to him, and no matter how people couldn’t see the beauty in what he was drawing he didn’t care because to him its not how it looks but how it makes him feel.He got pleasure from drawing this girl and he felt good about it even though he was getting no money for this he was content, satisfied i think.

Here was i tired after a long walk through the streets of accra, and pissed off about how the sun was wey too hot.I suddenly realised how petty i had been, i was surrounded by so much and i didn’t even notice, this simple man had to explain it to me.

Life takes you on different paths, not realizing what you already have,you might loose yourself for an illusion you have created of what you want ahead.


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