Art. It makes the world worth living. Art in forms of paintings, writing, fashion, music, and nature. Art in human form. That’s right. Every form of art makes life worth living. I am obsessed with art, so it isn’t surprising that I am also a beautiful piece of it. “You are what you’re attracted to.” –Ekata, 2023. But I beg you, quote me at your own risk. I shall not be held responsible for the ridicule you may attract.
For the first time in my 73 years of schooling here, I attended a proper social function. You know why? It was all about the arts! I was super excited when my friend shared the flyer with me, asking if I’d be free. Of course, I would. It didn’t matter that I had to put work on hold. We are talking about art and music fusion. For free, for that matter. Hell, yes! I was free.
I arrived the event looking like one of the exhibits, registered, and got in to feed my eyes and soul with some creations human with just one head like me made.
As I walked around waiting for the acts to begin their performances, I stumbled upon some artists painting a couple of people’s faces. I thought those people were models for the event, so I sat and admired them, wishing I could have my face painted too. I was impressed by a particular young man’s painting; I had to compliment him and the model.
When I noticed people from planets away approaching the artist, whom I had complimented, to have their faces painted, I was like, “Enhen?! Before my eyes?” I was forced to go ask him if anyone could have their face painted, and I got a positive answer. Without thinking, I asked if I could get one. So I waited my turn with the excitement of a child. I even caught myself bouncing.
While waiting, Ekata, the worrier, showed up. You know what her concerns were? “What if my skin reacts to their paint and breaks out?” “But I haven’t taken good pictures yet. If I get to paint my face now and I find someone to take my pictures later, I’ll be left with only pictures of me with painting.” Ekata, the art lover, instantly shut the worrier up with irritation.
It was finally my turn. “Just do anything you think would fit my face,” I told the artist. With a smile of acknowledgement, the artist held my face gingerly and started to paint, but there was a problem. He was really struggling to paint smoothly. “Your face is oily,” he said, looking concerned. Of course, it was expected since I splashed 21 litres of coconut oil on my face and whole body before the event.
Thankfully, I had a small towel in my purse, so I took it out, wiped the part he was trying to paint on, and made the devil weep. Of course, it’s always better to blame the devil than the actual culprit.
So we go again, he holds my face with the gentleness of a lover and begins to paint, and my heart starts to bla-bla-blu. He suddenly felt too close to me, and it began to feel like we had been on it for hours. At some point, I think my heart crawled to my cheeks, then to my eyes, and back to its original position.
Minutes (it was probably seconds) into the painting, I let out a smile that I had been holding back for fear of ruining the process and let him know I was really nervous. He gave back a knowing smile, like he could sense the several bombs ticking off in my body and told me I had no reason to be. I was slightly embarrassed when he smiled back and wondered what he was thinking.
I had always known I wouldn’t make a great face model, but I became more confident at that moment. I don’t know how to be still. I can be a shaky-shaky auntie, especially when work is being done around my eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought I was helplessly in love with this lovely young man because what happened at that moment is precisely how Silhouette and Harlequin books would describe a scene between potential lovers trying to mask their true emotions.
When he finally finished painting my face, he proceeded to paint my arm as I requested. Guess what I got. A flame-like painting, as the queen of flames that I am. When he finished, I thanked him for the painting and asked for a picture with him. I should have asked for his phone number or Instagram handle too. I totally loved both paintings. Anyway, I went on to enjoy the rest of the activities, feeling like the finest piece of art in the room cos “new painting, new me.”
I watched a talented artist do some live drawings of random people, took in the spoken word poetry performed to open the event, and was blown away by the dance performances—which got me teary at some point—the music performances, and the bands.
While thoroughly enjoying the performances by one of the bands/instrumentalists, the gbedu fully entered my body. I found my rhythmless self moving energetically to Lagbaja’s Konko Below. Can you believe it? I forgot to be shy or conscious. That should tell you how much I enjoyed my time at the event. To think that I almost gave in to the urge to stay in bed, away from the sun. It would have taken me 27 years to forgive myself. It was indeed a day to remember.
Special thanks to Aggie for the invitation. May your life always be colourful and exciting.
I will have to use your quote tomorrow as the situation demands 😂, but this is a great piece, Ekata.
Why didn’t you follow the rhythm of your heart and ask the man for his number or lean in for a kiss? I mean, you just blew the chance at a fairytale love. ANyway you try another time.
No video of you dancing to konko below 😫
😂You are on your own o. But fairytale? Really? Anyway, thanks a lot for your kind words.❤️
☺️☺️☺️
To think I was almost crying too at the dance performance the same time .
You are welcome 🥰.
As usual your writing- never fails to disappoint 😚. Now I wish I was there🥲
Thanks, babe. I wish you were there too!
Why didn’t you extend such a rare invitation to me? I’m angry with you I must say but I wouldn’t be for you’ve literally made me feel present. You’re a subtle and detailed writer. Many thanks.
Thank you, Emmanuel. Apologies for not inviting you, glad my writing could fix that.😂
That face painting thing, even as a child, I never did it at birthday parties cos I was scared of what it will do or how I’d react. Lol. I really hope I get to go to an art exhibition someday though.
I’m rooting for you! Lol. It is a beautiful experience everyone should have. But I get it that not everyone cares for or about art, and I’m judging them.
First of all I must say that you look so beautiful. I love your hair in particular ❤️.
For your write-up, kept me glued to my screen until the end. Such a beautiful piece, indeed a work of art👏😊.
Well done Ekata
Thank you for the compliment, Chika. I’m glad you enjoyed my story.
Omoh 🥹🥹 babe, You too do well o👍 . In my head rn I’ve started thinking about how to share this and get my friends and colleagues subscribe to your newsletter.
Thank you, my love. I’m grateful for the support.
Beautiful!
Thank you, Paul.
This was a beautiful read Ekata. Now I wish I was at that art exhibition 🥺
I remembered the way I felt when I had my last face painting too. I was really nervous but I always loved painting my face as a child so I was really looking forward to it. I had to pay a little token though