Chapter 7: Shadows of the Past
Chapter 7: Shadows of the Past
As the days passed and preparations for the exhibition took shape, Alex felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The closer he got to the exhibition date, the more his self-doubt crept in. What if people didn’t like his art? What if they didn’t understand it? The fear of rejection, which had always held him back, seemed stronger than ever.
Alex spent hours fine-tuning his paintings, adding details and textures, trying to make them perfect. But the more he worked, the more it felt like he was losing sight of what made the pieces special in the first place—the raw emotion, the unrefined expression of his innermost thoughts.
He had come a long way from the quiet boy who had once painted in secret. Yet, as he stood in front of his canvases, he realized that the fear of judgment still lingered. The voice inside his head whispered, Are you truly ready for this?
One evening, as he was putting the finishing touches on a painting that had become a symbol of his journey—a landscape of Elsridge bathed in the glow of the setting sun—his mother walked into the room. She had been quiet ever since he returned from Edinburgh, unsure of how to express her pride without overwhelming him.
“Alex,” she said softly, “I’ve been thinking a lot about your journey. About how far you’ve come. I remember when you first started drawing, how you used to hide your sketches from me. And now… now you’re preparing for an exhibition in London. It’s incredible.”
Alex smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Mum. What if I’m not good enough? What if my work isn’t what people want to see?”
His mother stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alex, you don’t have to be perfect. You never have to be perfect. You’re creating because it’s what makes you happy. If others can see that in your work, then that’s enough.”
Alex swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to break him. “I’m afraid of what people will think. I’m afraid they won’t understand me.”
She smiled warmly. “That’s okay. Some people may not understand. But the right people will. And that’s who you need to create for.”
Alex took a deep breath and looked at his paintings, the colorful, swirling chaos that had once felt like an extension of himself. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’ve spent so much time worrying about what others might think. Maybe it’s time to just be myself.