Fears

I'm a nontraditional student, meaning: I am the "old guy" sitting in the classroom. The "mama" of the group.  A title I've apparently always worn, according to my closest friends.  
I remember one particular young face from when I first started this grand educational adventure (longer ago than I like to admit).  She was arrogant, mean and knew nothing of the real world.  Every encounter with her was... just dreadful. She had talent and a spirit about her, but it was masked with an ugly demeanor. 
To this day I remember one of her painting series.  It was on nightmares. Her nightmares. I can recall the colors so vividly. They were bold, warm colors swirling around the canvas. The "creature" found within gave off a fiery tone but didn't evoke fear per say.  I couldn't relate to her "fears."
As I'm planning my next series, my mind keeps going back to her's.  Mine will embody some of my greatest fears, but in a whole different manner.  I've been told I paint "happy little paintings."  They are layered with vibrant color.  But, if you look closely....

I'm a little afraid of this series...that's good, right?