Chapter 29
Madison
It felt good being in the new gallery. Everyone around me was so supportive. When Sarah found out what happened and couldn’t get ahold of me, she came to the apartment and brought dinner and flowers. She was mortified that someone could do something like that, and to be honest, I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.
My face looked terrible and the bruise had turned from red and orange to black and blue. It was in all the papers, and the press had been waiting outside of the loft to talk to me. I didn’t want to talk, so Charlotte delivered a statement for me and asked them to leave me alone. Still, walking through Manhattan and passing the newsstands with Lee’s face splashed across the front was hard to take. I was more than happy to be inside the gallery, watching my art be delivered. I had all of it shipped to the gallery to go over with Sarah for the show on Friday. We unwrapped all the pieces and placed them around the conference room. We walked from piece to piece, talking about the medium, the time taken, and the cost to create each piece. She took notes while we walked.
“This piece is an oil on canvas, with gold paper accents and clay imaging,” I said, looking at the seven-foot tall piece. “This one is about three years old, but I would have to say my favorite. It probably cost me about a hundred dollars to make.”
“I love it,” she said, looking up at the piece and shaking her head. “It’s so expressive and the fact that you can literally reach out and feel the meaning in the picture is just unbelievable.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling shy. “It started out as an expressive piece about my life, but ended up turning into a political piece about misogyny and sexism.”
“I love that,” she said, scribbling my words down on the paper. “Every painting will have a plaque with the information about materials you used and a quote from the artist. I think that quote is perfect.”
When I stepped to the last set of paintings, my stomach dropped and I looked at the skyline from Liberty Island, replaying images from that day in my mind. Zach had been absolutely amazing, and I had gotten to fulfill one of the things on my bucket list. I really missed him every day, and when he called Charlotte’s phone I was wrapped up in a blanket, eating donuts and watching a chick flick, tears streaming down my face. Everything was just so confusing.
“Tell me about this piece,” Sarah said, looking at the colors. “This is the piece that got you here.”
“This piece,” I said, taking a deep breath and pausing. “This piece is the skyline painted from the top of the Statue of Liberty. But more than that, this piece really encompassed my life when it had been familiar, exciting, and full of love. Those colors weren’t there that day in front of me. I added them later. They were the colors I felt were swirling around in my chest, beating with my heart, and telling me to just let go.”
“And did you? Did you let go?”
I stood there for several moments, just staring at the picture and thinking about her question.
“No,” I said, breathing deep and turning toward her. “I never was able to let go of him.”
“Well, maybe that’s a sign,” she said, winking and walking back over to the table.
“Maybe,” I whispered to myself, tearing my eyes from the painting and sitting down across from her. “So, what do you think?”
“I think these pieces will sell like hot cakes,” she said, smiling. “I’m going to have the photographer come take a picture for the media. But, I am going to need one more piece. Something really special. Something that we can use as the centerpiece of the entire show.”
“Okay,” I said, realizing I was going to have to get to work.
“Come on,” she said, standing and reaching for my hand. “I’ll show you the studio.”
I followed Sarah through the building and into the back, where the doors gave way to high ceilings, white walls, and dozens of separate areas for the artists. Paint speckled the black and white tiled floor, and art hung drying across the expanse of the walls. In the back corner was an area for sculpting, including a door to a kiln, a clay area, a glass blowing area, and an area to work with large scale metal pieces. I shook my head and looked around in wonder. They had stocked the place with everything anyone would need to create their masterpieces and even included a kitchen in the back corner with snacks and a huge urn of coffee. We walked along the cement toward the back and turned to a clean, neat space, with a seven foot by four-foot wide canvas propped on a large easel. Sarah stopped and turned to me, handing me a key.
“This key unlocks the back door,” she said, nodding toward the exit. “You can come and go at any time, day or night. My artists usually work a lot at night, but it’s up to you. It’s your space. I know it will take time to get comfortable in, but eventually, you will be here all the time. Anything you need is on that wall to your right. Canvases, brushes, paints, anything. We ask you to clean your stuff when you’re done and put it in your drawer to use again later. I restock that thing on a weekly basis. This is your space.”
“Wow,” I said, walking in and running my hand over the large white drawing table. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
“No, thank you for joining our family here,” she said, turning to walk away. “Now, get to work. You have a masterpiece to create!”
I smiled and watched Sarah walk from the room, grasping the key in my hand. I took off the chain I wore around my neck with a locket on the end and slid the key onto it. I looked around my space, feeling a sense of excitement to make the space my own. The other artists had brought in rugs, they’re own more comfortable chairs, photographs, etc. But for right now, all I needed were some tools. I ran my hand over the blank canvas and turned to the supply corner. I walked through, pulling out bins and collecting the brushes, paints, and other odds and ends that I would need to use to create. I grabbed several magazines and brought them over as well, just in case I wanted to make this a mixed media piece. I placed everything in the perfect spot and grabbed the smock hanging on the wall. I ran my fingers over my name stitched into the pocket and smiled to myself.
When everything was in its place, I stood back and stared at the white empty canvas in front of me. Usually when I sat down to paint, the ideas immediately started to flow, but in place of ideas, all I could see were visions of Zach. I shook my head and sat down at the drawing table, grabbing a pencil and starting to sketch. I was lost in my thoughts, feeling my broken heart trying to restart itself in my chest. When I looked down I grimaced, seeing that I had sketched a quick likeness of Zach on the sheet in front of me.
I shook my head and balled the paper up, tossing it in the waste basket beside me. I love him. I know I do, but he had specifically done something that I had told him couldn’t be done, and that made me question my trust in him. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lee’s face, inches from mine. I hadn’t slept in days, waking up after a few short moments thinking I could feel Lee’s body pressed against mine.
My time with Zach led to something pretty amazing, and I knew then, I had never felt that way about a man before. But what he did came with a lot of unexpected and terrible things. I was so messed up in the head about what had happened. My emotions and thoughts were all over the place. On one hand, I wanted to run into Zach’s arms, professing my love so I could enjoy this part of my life with him by my side, but on the other hand, my brain was all fuzzy, and nothing made sense anymore. I knew it wasn’t fair to blame Zach for what had happened, but every time I thought about him, I would think about Lee as well, and it made things really hard on me.
I sighed, taking off the smock and hanging it back up on the wall. I couldn’t concentrate at all here and there was no use in standing around, staring at a blank canvas. I grabbed some of the pencils and the tablet and stuffed it into my bag in case I had any artistic epiphanies at home. Then I went out the back door. Sarah was so great, but I didn’t want her to see me give up already. I needed this show, but first, I needed to regain my sanity. I walked along the street for several blocks just thinking, not ready to get back in a cab. As I stopped at a crosswalk, I looked up, staring at Zach’s building, wondering what he was doing. Part of me wanted to go in and just talk to him, but instead, I hailed a cab and made my way back to Brooklyn.
When I got inside, Charlotte was sitting on the couch, eating soup and watching television. The feeling of my apartment was soothing, and I was glad I had my best friend there for support. I hung up my bag, grabbed a beer, and plopped down in the chair across from her. She smiled at me and set down her bowl.
“So, how was it? Did she love your stuff?” Charlotte had a kind smile and a lighthearted tone.
“She loved everything,” I replied. “But I still have one more piece I have to add to the show.”
“Do we need to go grab some stuff? I love going to the art store with you.” She put her feet down on the floor.
“No, they have a studio, and they provided me with everything,” I replied, looking down at the charcoal on my fingertips.
“Wow. So, why aren’t you there painting?”
“I don’t know,” I said, sighing and throwing my head back. “My head is so full I can’t focus.”
“Okay,” she said, wiping her mouth and turning toward me. “So, let’s empty it. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“Zach.” I chuckled. “Pretty much just Zach.”
“What about him?”
“I don’t know,” I said, slapping my hands in my lap. “I just, I miss him, a lot. But at the same time, I’m completely screwed up in the head about what happened. I’m trying not to blame him for this. I mean, he had no idea that Lee was a crazy ass psychopath, but now, I’m not sure I can trust him.”
“He did have really good intentions,” she said. “But I understand. Listen, I won’t lie. I think that Zach is really good for you, and from what I’ve learned about him, you are really good for him, too. I can’t tell you what to do here, and I’ll support you in any decision you make, but my best advice is just to follow your heart. Clear your head, and follow your heart. It won’t lead you astray.”
I nodded at Charlotte, knowing she was absolutely right. The hardest part of all of this was knowing how to shut off my brain and just let myself be vulnerable. I knew what I wanted to do. Now, it was just convincing my mind to go along with it.