Gallery of Hearts

Chapter 2

It's been two days since I got accepted to put my art in SoSpec. They told me which wing the winners would be in so I decided to check it out in advance and visually plan a layout.

♡

I reach the grand door of the gallery and pull it open. The floor is a beautiful, clean white marble and the walls are white as well. The lights are perfectly set bright enough so you can see everything but not so bright that they take away from the ones that highlight the displays. The atmosphere is so peaceful and calming.

I continue to walk but without second thought my feet start to take me to my favorite artwork, the opposite direction of the wing I'm supposed to go to. I've seen that piece countless times but it's never enough. I don't mind taking a side quest. I stop as I approach the painting and stare at it for a few minutes as individuals walk around and past me. It hasn't changed and it never will but every time I see it feels like the first. It means the world to me. When life wasn't constant, this painting was. The picture depicts a dark, heavy storm with gray clouds and a strike of lightning. It looks like devastation overtook the land but in the foreground, there's a lone tree with a singular pink magnolia flower blooming on it's branch, a glimmer of hope in the eye of tragedy. My eyes are locked on it when I hear someone behind me.

"Could use some more detail and...it's a bit depressing, don't you think?" I turn around to look at who said that. It's not my creation but I'll defend it like it is.

"I don't, actually. It's perfect just the way it is," I say with a bit of an attitude before I'm even fully turned around. A figure is standing behind me and my eyes scan up to meet his. He's tall and has dark brown hair but light hazel green eyes.

"Your painting?" he asks raising an eyebrow and pointing to the masterpiece. I feel a bit embarrassed now and should've answered more politely.

"No...it's not. It's just my favorite piece. Valor Rignet is the creator," I say as I glance back at the painting.

"Ah. Valor Rignet. I'm not a fan of his stuff." he responds.

"Well it doesn't seem like you have good taste then. Do you paint?" I ask, scrunching my eyebrows together. I'm curious where his critiques are coming from.

"Here and there. Not as much as I used to."

"Where's your qualifications to judge such an amazing piece then? Can't you see what he was trying to get across?"

"All his pictures are filled with despair and melancholy. I'd rather have art light up a room, not bring it down. I just can't see why something like that is so loved."

"I really think you're missing the point of this work, all of his works for that matter. That pink magnolia is a symbol of hope. Hope throughout the disaster and devastation," I say passionately as well as annoyed.

"You'll have to tell me more some time," he suggests with a smirk. Great. Not only does he hardly have a background in art, he's here to pick up girls. Before I can decline, he sticks his hand out.

"Oliver Grant." I look down at his hand and hesitate before my right hand reaches out and meets his.

"Ivy Bennett," I respond meeting his eyes again. He smiles and lines form around his mouth, creating a rather warm image. His hand almost engulfs mine like a shield and I can't help the small smile I let out.

No. He just trashed your favorite piece. Stop

I pull my hand away. "Do you like coffee?" he continues, "There's a café down the block from here if you're not busy tomorrow. I'd like to hear your opinions on these other ones."

"As much as I'd love to, I can't. I have work." My heart feels heavy. I just want someone to be able to understand art through the same lens as me; to realize that there's so much more to a painting than the surface. He's not even scratching the surface.

"That's alright. I'll just continue to stay away from Valor Rignet," he says. I roll my eyes.

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that. I'll be on my way now," I say as I slightly lift a hand and turn to walk to the wing I came here for. When I arrive, I see the three bare walls with a sign posted saying, "Soho's Spectrum of Art: A Kaleidoscope of Color Exhibit coming June 1st". I can feel my heart race with excitement. I sit down on the bench closest to this corner and try to visualize my paintings on the wall. I have one big final center piece that I want to add. I started it last week and I think it could perfectly tie my other paintings together. I just have to finish it in time though; I'm not sure where I'm really headed with it. After a while, I gather myself together and make my way to the exit. I push the giant doors open and go down the steps. I turn left and start my walk home. I'm about 20 minutes from the gallery, it's not too far.

♡

When I get home, I greet Sunny. He lies next to me on the couch as I think about my encounter at the gallery. How could someone just totally miss the point of art? More specifically Valor Rignet? I feel like he practically writes the story out for the viewer in big bold letters. He's a well known artist, which is a given since he's in SoSpec, so disliking him is just out of this world. Whether you understand the message or not his pieces are beautiful to look at. Oliver is missing out. But his smile. His beautiful smile. And his eyes. Wow. No. You're never even going to see him again.

I check the time and sigh. I need to get my supplies ready for tomorrow. I have a wedding to paint for at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I'm about 37 minutes away, 25 on the subway 12 walking, so I should give myself more time in the morning. When I'm done packing my canvas, brushes, paint, and more, I brush my teeth and wash my face. I walk towards my bed, flicking the lights off on my way, and Sunny follows closely behind. He likes to curl up by my feet at night. The second I close my eyes, I'm out.

♡

I wake up in the morning just as fast as I fell asleep last night. My alarm rings next to me and Sunny stands on my back meowing. He doesn't care about me getting ready - he just wants breakfast. I sit up and stop the alarm before rubbing my eyes and stretching. As soon as I get up, Sunny jumps off the bed and heads towards his bowl. I feed him breakfast and get myself ready for the day. Once I feel presentable, I grab my art supplies and leave my apartment to go to the subway. I take the 2 down to Eastern Parkway by the Brooklyn Museum. When I arrive at the wedding venue, the event planner helps set me up behind all the chairs at the ceremony and I lay everything out so I was ready to go.

The scenery was beautiful. Light pink and white rose and peony bouquets paved the path to the front. As the guests draped in pastel colors found their seats, they anticipated the entrance of the bride. The grass was bright green and the trees were coated in leaves that swayed with the calm wind. The day was perfect for a wedding.

Later, as the bride and groom stood together in front of everyone, I snapped a picture and began painting. I've always loved working at weddings. Each one is so different from the last since there's so many personal options the couple can make, from venue to colors to flowers to centerpieces and more. It makes my job so much more fun. I love experimenting in art. The reception wrapped up and I packed my bags. I said congratulations to the newly weds and told them I'd be in touch with their painting before leaving the venue and making my way to the subway to get myself home.

♡

I was greeted by Sunny when I opened the door. He made a few circles around me, brushing up against my legs and purring. I feel bad leaving him at home. I put the canvas on my easel and organized all my brushes and paints into their proper drawers. I'll make some progress on this piece but I need lunch first. I'm already at the stage where I'm too hungry to cook; I can't wait much longer. I get offered snacks and drinks at work but I always feel guilty for accepting. I don't want anyone to feel like they have an extra guest on their hands. I usually just wait until I get home. I open my cabinets and scan the shelves. Nothing. Looks like I'm eating at Marco's today.