New Story Scraps, feedback appreciated

[Kitkat103]

Okay so this is my next story. I am kind of at a crossroads because I dont know if I should take it in one direction or another. If I do one road its considered erotic coupling or Humor, if I do another then it turns into a very long May/December like thing.

Okay here is the beginning, it is called The Artist


The aroma of marijuana scented the air. Sean took another puff of his joint and gently handed his camera to Aria.

“Hold the Camera Steady, Aria. The world needs to watch the artist work, baby” Sean said. He grabbed the bucket of Magenta house paint and walked over to the tarp covered terrace. Sean poured the bucket of paint over his head, the magenta paint cascading down his face, picking up pace as it flowed down his chest, over his genitals and pooled at his feet.

“I need help with my back Aria.” Sean said as he attempted to clear the paint that attempted to escape in his mouth.

Aria sighed and went to the bedroom to find the roller. It was not always like this. Sean was once warm and caring. Now it seems as if all he cares about is his artwork. Aria would understand this if it wasn't for the fact that Sean was not an artist.

Three months ago Sean’s poor attempt at Paint by Numbers high was discovered by his brother, Simon. Simon thought it was a genius Non Conformist piece of work and should be a part of the next showcase at his art gallery.

During the night of the showcase many of the hipsters thought the painting was “brooding” and “deep.”

 

[Kitkat103]

Edited work

Okay so I did some editing and changed the story to first person.


The aroma of marijuana scented the air. Sean took another puff of his joint and gently handed his camera to me.

“Hold the camera steady, Aria. The world needs to watch the artist work, baby.” . He grabbed the bucket of Magenta house paint and walked over to the tarp covered terrace. Sean poured the bucket of paint over his head, the magenta paint cascading down his face, picking up pace as it flowed down his chest, over his genitals and pooled at his feet.

“I need help with my back Aria.” Sean said as he attempted to clear the paint that around hismouth.

I sighed and went to the bedroom to find the roller. It was not always like this. Sean was once warm and caring. Now it seems as if all he cares about is his artwork. I would understand this if it wasn't for the fact that Sean was not an artist.

Three months ago Sean’s poor attempt at Paint by Letters high was discovered by his brother, Simon. Simon thought it was a genius Non Conformist piece of work and should be a part of the next showcase at his art gallery.

During the night of the showcase many of the hipsters thought the painting was “brooding” and “deep.” I spent the entire night at the snack table drinking wine. He can not be serious, it was a bad Birthday gift I gave him when I was in a rush. Then an older man stopped by his painting. He was handsome with salt and pepper hair and a very well - favored face. He couldn't be more than 40; but he was so damn sexy!

He chatted with Sean as he watched the ill-formed painting. The good looking male glanced toward the snack table and his gaze stopped when he saw me. His green eyes lingered on me followed by Sean approaching the snack table. “Get it together, Graem wants to meet you.” Sean grabbed my arm and I stumbled on the bottom of my teal dress. I practically wobbled as I tried to regain my balance.
“Get it together, stop behaving like a fool. It is about me right now, not you.” Sean hissed sharply. It was the very first time he spoke to me in that tone. I was so close to crying but I did not want Graem to notice.
“Graem this is my girlfriend Aria.”
“So this is the woman that started your art career. It is my pleasure” Graem kissed the back of my hand. I tried my hardest to stifle a smile. His hand lingered, as if he was reluctant to let go of my hand. I saw him glance at my cleavage as he scrunched his eyebrows at my greeting.
“Aria, that is an interesting accent you have, where are you from?” Graem asked.

I was shocked, Sean had never even bothered to ask me that in the three years that we have been dating. I looked at Sean and he continued to look at his painting, mesmerized by the bright neon paints that he stole from his job at the Domestic Depot.

“Well My family is from India but I was raised in Scotland.” Graem nodded his head, Sean showed the least bit of interest.
He gave Sean his card and said that he loved his artwork. “Very contemporary, I want in on the Sean Holster art experience. Call me when your next piece of art is ready.”

Overhearing that I became nauseous; but it was okay. Another glass of wine would steady me.I headed back to the snack table; as I reached for another glass of wine the server gave me an abashed look.
”Ma'am, I think you have had enough.” The server said.
“Bullshit, I'll tell you when I have had enough.” I slurred to the server. The server leaned into me making sure that no one else could hear her.
“But you have had enough glasses to equate a bottle and a half of wine.” I smiled and pointed my glass to Sean's paint by numbers on the wall.

“ I am dating the guy that created that” I slurred pointing my glass with so much emphasis that a bit of wine spilled down my arm. The server looked at the painting and sighed. She poured more wine into my glass and said” Wine cures all sins.”

*****
“Aria, roller now! I'm drying up here.” Sean yelled from the terrace, snapping me out of my flashback.

 

[Mr_Frobenius]

I think you should go the humour route.

Personally I would like to try writing an erotic humour story but I will see how is shapes up. I think the big challenge would be to keep it hot while making it funny.

 

[CWatson]

I think you have an interesting situation here, one that could actually go places. Additionally, if you actually delve into art in any manner, you could tackle subjects and angles that most stories on this site rarely bother with. To their detriment, I might add.

I also think you need to clean up your technicals. You have missing dashes ("tarp-covered"), missing commas, a missed spacebar hit ("hismouth"), and you can't end sentences with periods if you intend to follow them with a dialogue attribution (" 'I need help with my back Aria,' Sean said"). Personally, I've trained myself to go back and fix errors when they happen. I know that sounds like a lot of work--it is--but seriously, writing a story is a lot of work. Would you like to fix your errors now or later? Pick one. The one thing you can't do is leave them unfixed.