This Is Happening: Molly's Story.

02: This Is My Life

02: This Is My Life

Ren adjusted her halogen lighting and leaned in closely to examine the water-damaged canvas in front of her. "Well, it doesn't look too bad at first glance. But, I'll need to take a closer look and I want to do a full UV light analysis. You brought it in early, so that's good. And the back of the canvas looks good too. The general rule of thumb is if there is less than 50% damage, usually the piece can be restored without impacting the value."

The impeccably dressed woman in her early-40s nodded. Mrs. Ganeck was one of the more successful account executives in her family's marketing company. Her eyes were plastered to her recently acquired 17th-century piece, a gift from a family member's collection.

Ren stepped back, pulled off her nitrile gloves, and shifted her attention from the painting. "It's a beautiful piece, Mrs. Ganek. I have a few other projects I'm working on, but I'm pretty confident I can have it for you early next year."

Mrs. Ganek grimaced and broke from her stare. She turned and surveyed the 1920s restored industrial loft in Red Hook, Brooklyn. The small kitchen, with a utilitarian, distressed metal kitchen table, was divided loosely by Ms. Sheppard's workspace. The front of the apartment at first glance might look like there was still work being done on the structure. At closer examination, it was clear that there was an artist in residence.

The loft was open, with large windows and exposed beams. Metal pendant lighting hung from the ceilings. A few easels, an L-shaped work table, several drop cloths, and an expensive-looking camera and lighting system dominated the space. Artist's tools and what looked like a chemistry set were arranged in a very particular manner over the workspace. Mrs. Ganek guessed there was a method to the madness.

The only furniture in the space was a solitary, eight-foot-long "loved" couch and a standing lamp. They sat pressed up against an exposed brick wall, facing the workspace and looking out through the large windows.

"Ms. Sheppard," Mrs. Ganeck met Ren's dark eyes, "I know it's uncouth to pull the 'I'm a friend of your father's' card. But, the uncle who gifted this to me will be visiting for the Thanksgiving holiday. I would really like to have the piece ready by then."

Ren sighed and quietly surveyed her workspace. She had two open projects and lately, her process seemed slow and strenuous. She had been so mentally exhausted by her work that it left only a fraction of the time to work on her own portfolio. "I understand, Mrs. Ganeck." She took another breath and smiled. "I'll move your piece to the front of the project timeline."

Ren thought to herself, I could use a few banked 'points' with my dad. "And, I don't think the damage is too extensive. I'll have it ready for pickup in the next two weeks."

Mrs. Ganeck smiled, enjoying the flattery and the "pull" she had in that moment. "Thank you so much. I look forward to hearing from you." Mrs. Ganeck's eyes swept over Ren in an appraising fashion as she prepared to leave. "You've built quite a reputation for your work. And at such a young age too."

Ren smiled with gratitude, 28 and "thriving" as an artist in New York City was an exceptional circumstance. Not something that was often accomplished on your own."Well, thank you."

She looked around at her apartment. It was a gift from her mother's estate and she paid to maintain the residence but wasn't burdened by rent or a mortgage.

"I've been very fortunate to be able to contract for art conservation while working on my own portfolio. My parents have been my primary patrons."

"Never underestimate the power of family, dear. They can often help us to become our best selves. We just need to work hard once that door is open." Ren nodded. "Will I see your work in a show soon? I saw the Stantons have a piece," Mrs. Ganeck asked, raising a curious eyebrow. Collecting from a young and relatively unknown artist can be very lucrative over the long haul.