Dear Bren,

Can I be your friend? I like to smile a lot, though not that often at strangers because I feel a little strange doing so, but I will start now. I wish that I had come across one of your paintings around Boston, though when I really think about it, I’m not sure what I would do. I would want to take it to brighten up my place, but I would want to leave it for the next person to have as well, and then maybe I would just take the heart of the message with me.

Bren, I like your characters. They are so adorable, and they make me want to jump up with joy and clap my hands together like a little girl who just got her favorite flavor of cotton candy. I regret not having gotten something of yours a few months ago; I saw your paintings on display at S&P, and I remember feeling so warm and fuzzy and delighted inside. My friend “commissioned” you for a painting after the Beacon Hill Art Walk; he wanted a cute little red devil on a blue background. Do you remember? I wish that I had gone that day, too, so that I could have met you in person.

You are so cool, Bren. I can’t come up with a better word to describe you, partially because I am overcome with child-like giddyness thinking about all the greens and blues and reds on your canvases, and especially those big innocent, mis-matching, circle eyes on your characters. Besides, Bren Bataclan is admittedly one of the coolest names ever.

Will you be my friend, Bren Bataclan?

Sincerely,
shan