Who Names The Colors

A Symphony of Green and Gold

It took about three years. The same amount of time it took Jo to meet Colin, marry him, have a baby, and get divorced. That stretch was what passed between when Harry left and when his name started to come across her notice naturally. Because his name turned up without her looking. Before she would google him, or target her search to fellowships she'd heard through the grapevine he was involved in, ones she had put him up for. But now there was an article about him, and then another in the art zines that crossed her desk monthly. He was at the start of the stir he'd bring to the art world.

Even more entrancing, his work was in the publications crossing her desk. Jo's heart stopped over pieces that were her. Her lines and expressions and rising. It was weird and joyous and heart wrenching.

They hadn't spoken in years. Since that day on her doorstep, and things had drastically changed for them both she assumed.  Well, very little had changed on the day to day for her. Except she was busier with Zoe, with her dance and gymnastics and primary school schedule. Jo still taught, and she painted now, daily. Maybe more than she had when they were together. And she'd had several mentees, but none quite so talented as her first.

That was a lie, the same day to day remained, but Jo had changed and she'd grown. All those paintings she made, putting her colors, his color, and her feelings on them. At one point Jo ran out of space. So, she'd started selling them. Making a tidy sum on the side. She'd started at open air markets, nearby, and then she'd done some small festivals. People, especially women, loved her beats girls, and saw themselves in her common self-portraits now. She usually drew herself smiling, grateful, sometimes not. But those were the ones that sold. And every time a woman told her they had felt like that, or we're trying to feel like that, she found purpose. It was a renewing spring, she'd paint herself happy when she wasn't sure she was. Other women were happy to feel the images, happy, and so she was happy. Her festival circuit reputation was growing and she had a booth at Glastonbury soon. That was a big change. If she kept it up, she may have been able to make her living with painting. That made Jo smile, in her paintings and mirror.

And Zoe was busy with another thing that kept Jo busy, busy as well. Jo had been moved one day, when her daughter's primary school had bemoaned the lack of art besides finger painting for the kids. It niggle at the back of her brain for three days before she called the director. This was a need she could fill, and be fulfilled by it. Hence, Jo taught two after-school class to kids ages six to eight and nine to eleven once a week each. She taught them techniques and tools, and even masters. She'd recently snuck one of Harry's paintings into class, and the kids had loved the shine. Jo had let them use gold paint that day, and she was happy to watch them use it liberally. Jo loved the idea of a life generously gilded.

She didn't think of him everyday anymore, but she thought of Harry a lot that day. He would have loved it. Nudged her, and asked her who her next project would be. "Who are you gonna have Thursdays with now Miss Jo?" Long before their best and worst of times. When he wasn't the man she loved recklessly, but the excellent student she saw that spark around. She saw it in Thomas. She decided that day she'd tell him mom to seek a other art enrichment programs. You had to foster talent.

Jo had known that Harry was going to do big things. Everyone in the department had known. She'd thought it was why Victoria was envious of her, put her under a microscope while they worked together, tried to catch her out. There were red hands to find, but Jo looked back and thought it was creative jealousy. Not that Harry's talent reflected on her, though in some ways it did more than most. Certainly she had a stronger hand in it than Victoria's who was not his biggest fan, but wouldn't have minded the career boost of the name association.

Jo was his biggest fan, if her occasional stalks of his name online, and rifles through art zines for his name, and scrolls of his active Instagram had anything to say about it.