Bella is a ten year old girl that runs the restaurant I work at. She is the daughter of Manel, a friend of ours. Manel will come in and hang out while Bella serves gelato or runs the register. She gets mad at me if I try to step in and you know, do my job. Bella is occasionally useful when understaffed and busy. Its like having half an employee. In exchange she is supplied with all the pepperoni she wants.
The other day I was sitting down for a minute before my shift started. Bella wanted to know what was in my big messenger bag. I started to tell her but soon became easier to open it up. Along with deodorant, cologne, iPod, digital sound recorder, magazines, extra shirt, bike pump and tools was my sketch pad. A big one I just bought the day before, it only had one sketch in it. Just the beginnings of an idea. She wanted to see it. I said no. I dont like to show people anything unfinished. I feel awkward enough trying to communicate on a daily basis with the usual series of syllables that is my every day speech, much less visual interpretations of random ideas plucked from my own synapses. She began to whine. I mean literally whine, like a puppy. So I showed her. It is a rough sketch of an idea I want to do a photo of then translate to a woodcut. She looked at it and said, "hmm.....I....no, it's good ....it's just....not for...me.
Without a doubt the most honest and accurate judgment of my work I have ever received.
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