Museums

1.4

The art show is in an old warehouse. People slowly stream inside so it's easy for me to find the entrance. There's quite a large crowd of attendees. I'm vaguely surprised. Usually events like these don't bring in a lot of publicity.

There is a steadily moving line that I have to wait in before I can enter. In front of me stands two college girls. One wears a similar shirt to the girl that gave me the flier. They must be sorority sisters or something.

"Tay said that the painting is amazing. I totally can't wait to see it." She flutters. Her ponytail swings, brushing across my face. I jerk backward into the man behind me. He chuckles catches me before I tumble downward.

"You good?" He asks in a deep husky voice. I glance at his face. He's staring at me sympathetically. With a hasty nod I pry myself out of his arms and stiffen my posture.

My small scene has caused the sorority sisters to turn around. Their eyes roll over me in the classic, "who is this chick?" fashion. After piercing me with their sharp blue eyes they return to their original conversation. It's insane how one second they can be looking at me with venom dripping in the glance and then return to their pointless drama in the next. I'd really hate to piss one of them off.

The warehouse is open. There's plenty of space for me to roam. Someone has hung bright, white lights above the exhibits. The floor and walls are a cream color. But the ceiling takes my breath away. A mural is painted on canvas and hung. Dark blue hangs over us. Small diamonds of silver freckle the backdrop. Metallic strings connect the freckles into constellations. It's a gorgeous rendition of the night sky.

Mouth agape, I stare at it in awe. The work put into this is visible. Each stroke has meaning behind it. Every star is a metaphor. Even the way it is so delicately hung is gushing with symbolism.

It takes me approximately twenty minutes to get over the mural. I move to other paintings but my attention is still on the sky.

I notice Clint and Tay are posing next to a large canvas. As I move a bit closer I realize that it's a picture of Tay with her hands in her blonde hair. Her eyes are serious. It's one of those pictures that the gaze never leaves you. No matter where you move it's always watching. Her body is blurred from her shoulders to her knees in a nude mess. I have to admit Clint is very talented. It is a very well done painting. For me I don't exactly enjoy looking at Tay's implicit nakedness. Especially not when she's watching me so intensely. Uncomfortable, I sulk into the next room.

There are a few photography works. Art is about creating. I think the pictures are lovely, but I always felt like snapping a shot and calling it your own was cheating. I loiter near them, but nothing sparks my interest.

Near the back of the room a sign is illuminated. At first I think it is just instruction or something. Once the words come into view I realize that it is an exhibit.

Are you really happy?

The words strike me with a loss. They are written in white neon-light, the sign a glossy black square. That's it. That's the masterpiece. I am standing there reflected. Emotion is evoked in my brain like a match being lit. Am I? Am I really happy? Am I happy that I lost all my friends? Am I happy that Dad left me and I left Mom? Am I happy with Shay? Am I happy with myself? Am I happy living in magnificent SoHo? Am I really happy?

For a split-second I get lost in my thoughts. My brow is furrowed, my shoulders are slumped, and my mind is racing to a conclusion. Before I can reach the 'yes or no' to the proposal on the wall, a figure appears next to me.

"So are you?" He asks.

I turn in surprise. "Hmm?" I ask cautiously.

"Are you really happy?" He questions. I examine him before responding. He is about my age, he's got long brown eyelashes and hair that's slightly shorter on the sides than on the top. His shirt is a button up denim with the words, A Saturday Well Spent, crudely stitched on the breast pocket.