A Matter of Perspective

Ezra sighed softly and tilted his head at the painting. Then, he tilted his head the other way. There was something off about it and he couldn’t figure out what it was. He checked the anatomy of the figures. There were no extra fingers, the thumbs were on the correct sides, everything was positioned in an anatomically possible fashion. That wasn’t it.

He began checking through the background, looking for something that was out of place or disproportionate in some way. His brows furrowed and he bit his lip. “What’s wrong with this picture?” he asked of no one in particular.

“How big is that tower supposed to be?” Morgan said, pointing at a spire on an island in the left corner. “It looks tiny!”

Ezra laughed and shook his head. That was the problem. A trick of the angling in the composition. The tower was meant to be far to the background, but the base was too close to the bottom of the image. Shaking his head, he grabbed up his paints and began covering the top with various shades of green.

Morgan laughed as the top of the tower vanished behind foliage. “That actually helped,” she said.

Nodding, Ezra said. “It’s a matter of perspective and angles,” he said, shrugging. He used various shades of brown to suggest branches, then layered more green. Soon, he stepped back and nodded at the change. “Thank you,” he called, as he turned to wash up his palette and brushes.

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