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20 Sep 11 at 11 am

pressedandguarded

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Dancing Brushstrokes
Rhythm, bass, and brushstrokes. A six by eight foot canvas stretched out on wood. Two artists - one male, one female - hold dancing paint brushes. A scene in acrylic unfolds in front of the viewers eyes. The colours are perfectly unnatural for their setting; a neon night scene erupts on the cloth canvas dance floor.

They are live painters, having taken in scenes around them by memory and now creating art. Their use of bright colours under bright lights entrance the audience. Paint smells are toxic in the air, mixing with cigarettes and cannabis.

Smoke dances in front of the paint; the artists do not seem to mind, layering on colours and adding minor details. Their brushes disjointed from the rhythm, but their bodies are still in tune. A casual conversation sparks with one of the artists; he is from St.Andrew’s and the piece they are painting would be put up for auction the following week.

The band strikes up a new song. The crowd clapping and cheering in awe. A quick look around shows not one person standing still. The painters were dipping brushes and weaving lines according to the tune, pausing every so often to answer comments of passer-by’s.

“This is music you can’t help dancing to” the artist said, as if reading my thoughts.

Wading back into the sea of people, I joined the dance.

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