The years following their own wake in exploring a newfound skill each brother had a brush with the hobbying intrest of the arts.
Mikey had always been the most creative of the three, always seen with a pen and paper even at a younge age it was no surprise when he grew up to be the artist of the group and most imaginative. Even now when they were well into their mid-twenties and during the midst of them all exploring new experiences Mikey had suggested art.
Leo through much trial and error with many artistic mediums through his lifetime has been firm to believe it was simply not meant to be. All that he touch with the intention of being creative was for not as he lacked the real drive to think in a creative mindset. Mikey was immediate to disclaim this belief rebuking the montra that anyone could be creative before helping him into another field in the medium until they found it. The start was rough, blotches of color and undefinable shapes spread sparse on the canvas. It wasn't perfect but for one reason or another Leo ,for the first time in his life, didn't want it to be. The liquid chemical scent of paints permeated his room on a near daily basis, becoming a ritual of sorts as the years passed by and he would paint within the private of his room. Letting loose ideas and answers guide the brush to carve out the unknown and uncertainties he kept within. Insecuritys and self-imposed responsibilities lied splayed for all to see. Yet, minutes after a piece is done drying he picks it up to inspect. Taking in all it has to offer and allows that feeling to wash through him in a tidal way then he burns them. Disposing the evidence of his emotional release in flame of shame and joyful. Shameful that he allowed such unbecoming emotions to boil and rot beneath his pristine surface. Joyous that he has finally let it out, all the rage and frustrations, sadness and helplessness. A cleanse for the soul he'd later call it as the cycle began again.
Raph wasn't one to actively seek out the need to be creative you he sketched from time to time when the need hit but it was never a main priority. He rejected Mikeys offering to help in discovering his creative outlet relaying that he'd much rather find what interested him by himself to which Mikey agreed and wished him luck. Frustration over took him son after as he found that drawing took too much focus and attention as did the majority of what he tried, all but one. He found it a fallen box from his closet during his weekly room cleaning. Two metal needles large in size and tons yarn to fumbled from the box.
Memories of a time when the image of manliness was his prime priority and the knitting set though beloved by himself simply hadn't matched that image hadn't helped that his brother used to make fun of him for doing so. An interest to be boxed, stored and forgotten, until now. He was a but rusty, fumbling fingers and tangled yarn but after a while thanks to his muscle memory and a few quick tutorials online he could finally get back into the grove of things.
He kept it a secret all the while, a history while vague in memory had instilled within him an irrational fear. They were older now, more mature himself included. He found himself no longer defined or so heavily influenced by the concept of masculinity yet he couldn't help but be consumed by the nippling fear inside. The thought of sharing this renewed interest with the others was life shattering in his own head yet when caught one evening as Mikey entered univited calling that dinner was ready they froze. Sights locked, his hands halted in their quick ministrations and he did nothing to hide the knitting utensils nor the lengthened blanket he had been working on.
Panic rushed his system but it remained unseen as instead his emoted a bout of anger for the younger. Setting aside his creation
and growling at Mikey for entering without knocking. Sshoving him out the room in a huff and light blush of embarrassment.
It remained unspoken during dinner but Mikey had confronted him on it. Happy that he managed to find something he enjoyed to do for fun and that there was no shame to it. Raph acted as though these words spoken had little affect on him as though they slipped through one ear and out the other. But these words of encouragement now many years down the line still rang true.
Don was a hard case to follow when it came to creativity, sure he could sketch up schematics or blueprints but they were done with an air of professionalism only. Though Mikey would reccomend many options none stuck much as Donnie saw most all of them to some extent distracting or their processes would inintendtually stress himself out.
Don was busy turtle and even busier as the years would long past their adolescence and into young adulthood. He held a myriad of responsibilities and bigger projects popped into mind at a near daily basis. This did little to deter Mikeys as months would pass with little avail until the younger struck gold.
Origami, a book of which was shoved in his face with a smiling Mikey beyond. His first reaction was an almost immediate rejection, the idea of spending his time to stop, read then attempt to compose animals and the like from edged geographic shapes had little to interest him. But he wasnt one to quit before trying at least once.
The results surprised him, before 24 hours after given the book he had managed to recreated the vast majority of the figurines in the tutorial book. It more calming then he first assumed, a quick peek through the book before he grasped a piece of paper and tried it out. It didnt have much in the way of effort or energy expenditure as he had assumed prior. Picking another he tried again and again with another before long his stressed mind slowed as his stiffened physique relaxed ever slight.
Taken into the moment of every crease he made, the trickling crinkle of the paper, and its printer quality scent which added to the experience. A few minuted of practicing and here he was 80 paper creature and objects littered his desk and he enjoyed every second of it.