Chapter One - Nathan Worth
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Chapter One - Nathan Worth
My name is Nathan Worth and I was born in Polokwane, an exceptional city in Limpopo, one filled with delight and unending pleasures. However, my stay in Limpopo was not lengthy, due to the fact that my father and I could not see eye to eye. At the age of eighteen, I readily relocated to Soweto, but I had never set foot there prior to my stay. I am a painter, a self-taught painter and to me, the latter is not just a mere profession but rather, an engraved aspiration to my heart.
Both my parents were accountants and they had their own firm, one that worked with prestigious companies, my father was more fond of his profession, sadly, his relentless fondness suspended a misfortune upon our relationship because he unconsciously compelled me to resemble him in every way and in all honesty, I loved my father, for he had done everything for me. My mother on the other hand, was in harmony with my passion, she neither coerced me nor suggested that I become an accountant like her and that really put me at ease.
I started painting at a tender age, but I was twelve years of age when I discovered that I was affectionate of painting, though at that time, I only regarded it as a hobby because I thought being an adult revolved around wearing suits and working in an office, I mean that is the mindset my father had embedded into me. I never wanted to be rich, I just wanted to have enough, while doing something that made me feel bright eyed and bushy tailed. I never had friends too, since I was an introvert but a part of me yearned to have at least one or two friends, yet having to fulfil that desire was a problem for me, since I was always hesitant.
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There-upon, I concluded that I would do things the way I see fit, because I could not imprison myself on a path filled with disharmony. The latter would cause tragedy and bickering, let alone stigmatizing the atmosphere between my mom and dad, especially since my dad had the tendency of blaming my mom for my mistakes and decisions, yet my mother was a very quiet person, she would always let bygones be bygones and one would think that she was a needlessly nonchalant woman but honestly, that trait enabled her to handle things with intellect and tranquility and I admired her for that fixated mindset. I would like to believe that I resembled more of my mother's traits and I could have resembled some of my father's traits but he was very unkind to everyone and I did not find pleasure in his unappealing manner of doing things.
Though my father wasn't always unkind and in all honesty, I am not sure as to where did this rage of his originate, for when I was six years old he would display an enormous amount of love to people despite not being acquainted with them and although the latter mentioned memory is slightly hazy to me due to the fact that it took place at my tender age but what I speak of is true, let alone the gentleman my father was towards my mother, for he would extend acts of romance to her at all times and when mom was sick, my dad would take a leave of absence from work just to cater for my mother, his wife or better yet, the apple of his eye. Unfortunately, that was no longer the reality at hand but regardless of the kind of person my father had become, my mother remained loyal to her matrimony and I respected that. The kind of marriage my parents had before my father withheld his acts of tenderness towards his family, incited me to appreciate the beauty of love but as already mentioned beforehand, I took a path of my own and I am presently situated in Paris as I write this novel of mine filled with a series of flourishing events.
Oh, and I was never eager to be a novelist but someone prominently special to me urged me to write an article about my journey as a painter and one article led to me writing this novel, merely because I grew fond of imprinting my story on paper. I am Nathan Worth, the painter and the protagonist of "Colorful, A Love Story".
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