Butterfly and Flame - Alina and Evan

Ashley

She walked across the marble floors of her entry way and across to the library. These days the floors felt harder beneath her feet. From time to time she would gaze about her surroundings as if she was seeing everything for the first time. The exquisite lighting, the perfectly aligned furniture, the Persian rugs providing some warmth to the room, and her grandsons photographs on the walls. Each told a story of his travels and the recognition it brought him. The photographs above the mantel were older but no less important. These were her taken by her son. Christian Alexander. They were as beautiful today as the day he shot them. While her grandson preferred wildlife, exotic landscapes and the human condition. Her son only had eyes for the water and the female form. Never vulgar or frivolous his photographs were lauded for their warmth and contrast of the softest shapes against unyielding mediums of rock, steel, brick and stone. His photographs of the oceans, or waterfalls or reefs were magical and had their own notoriety as they were used alongside nature videos as well as art books and even documentaries. She felt comforted sitting quietly with a cup of tea and gazing at the images that represented more to her than just the beauty of the object being photographed. They were the very essence of the view that her son appreciated and carried with him. Like her son, her grandson also carried every image with him as a keepsake of the experience of the shoot. While his shots tended to be dangerous adventures which caused her concern and endless nights of worry they were raw with feeling and that connection to his Art was evident in how the beholder felt about them. She missed them both. After her sons death she poured her heart and soul into her grandsons. She did not distinguish between them. They were his and therefore they were hers. Her heart still hitched when she allowed herself to think back to a past not forgotten but temporarily set aside. Very soon she would have to explain her actions and decisions to to them all. She knew that in doing so she would be solely to blame. And she would be held accountable by those she loved the most. She feared that day but also begged the heavens for enough time to see her plan through. She needed to come face to face with her past and join it with the present.

As she reflected on her life she accepted all with a mixture of regret and pride. Her wealth and position had grown, even more so after the death of her husband. All apprehensions and fears that he created in her suddenly vanished and she stepped outside her shell. She had learned a great deal under his heavy handed dominance. It had left an indelible mark on her soul. That was the price she paid for the safety of the ones she loved. She would do it again knowing full well how her heart would be torn apart and how she had inflicted pain and betrayed her heart in every way that had mattered to her.

Ashley A.S. Marooquin was still the strong survivor she had been so many years ago. It almost felt as if it was someone's else's life she remembered when the memories flooded her mind. Marooquin was a proud name. And so she chose it for the galleries name. She convinced her husband that the sole reason for choosing her maiden name and not his when she first approached him with her idea about opening up a Gallery was that if she did  not succeed, his name would not be associated with it therefore prevent his name and legacy to be impacted by her failure. She knew that his ego would not permit failure so he readily agreed and brushed it off as a woman's pet project. In reality she didn't want his name attached to the talent of her son. His son. It was a silent rebellion against her husbands domineering attitude and a victory to have in some small way attached her former self to her son by claiming his success for herself and letting it be seen and appreciated under the Marooquín name. Her husband really didn't care. Over the years, because of the success of the galleries in Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, London and Paris; she had built a name, legacy and wealth of her own. The name was now synonymous with the Arts and her careful philanthropic efforts extended to more than just photography. They included funding the education of countless talented youth with no financial means to pursue their dreams in the art world, through scholarships she set up through her non profit organization named in honor of her late mother Clarissa. Her mother had been everything to her. When she was able to begin funding the scholarships she created a non profit organization and named it Clarity for the  Arts. Her galleries broke many barriers by purposefully highlighting minorities, indigenous peoples from across the globe, and contemporary mediums. Her galleries were well known to those who enjoyed the finer things in life as well as to the average person. She had a talent for marketing and she carefully branded the galleries by conducting campaigners that infiltrated the current underground trends in the big city hubs as well as the traditional forums in the art world. She staffed her galleries with  a younger generation of vastly different backgrounds and experiences.  Today she was hailed as a pioneer for being one of the first to use social media and other more traditional mediums to bring attention to her galleries. That had never been done. She was bold and not afraid. The galleries evolved from the talent, success and the vision of her son. Photography was always considered second rate when compared to paintings, but as technology continued to expand it changed how people perceived photography in the arts. Her son and later her grandson were directly impacted by her decision to embrace this new outlet of information and share with the world her sons talent, as well as other artists who became successful as well and then eventually her grandsons talent too.

Her grandsons had inherited their parents and grandmothers love of the Arts even if they expressed  it differently. Christian, her youngest grandson was the life of the party and a superb host. He always had his finger on the pulse of what the elite wanted next as well as what the younger generation was into. That made him very effective in marketing their brand as well as changing course in order to grow. As CEO of the company he was at the helm and had been for some time after Ashley retired. At just 23 he was the youngest of the two brothers but by far the most level headed. He graduated university at age 20 and had been involved in the family business like his brother since he was very young. Brilliant at numbers and the markets he was the future of their empire.

Evan on the other hand was a free spirit and incredibly independent. The oldest at twenty-seven, his talent was undisputed in his field of photography and for him it was like breathing. Ambitious when it came to his art and hardheaded, their was nothing he wouldn't do to get the most perfect shot. That drive and tenacity made him the leading Wildlife photographer on the planet. Where Christian was all about the applause and notoriety, Evan couldn't get far enough away from it. The brothers, despite their different pursuits were especially close. Evan had always protected Christian. As children, fortunate to enjoy a lifestyle of wealth and privilege they never wandered far from each other preferring to share a room up until Evan left for college. Their parents death had a profound effect on them and they were very aware of how life could change in an instant. They were older than their years. Evan had especially been impacted by their deaths. At only eleven years old it had been a difficult year for him. He seemed to change in personality right before Ashley's eyes. Once a lively and open hearted boy he became quiet and reclusive. She remembered him crying himself to sleep several days after the funeral and when she went to tuck him into his bed she found a crumpled picture of her son, his father under the covers. She imagined the boys pain as he loved his father dearly and they had so much in common. They were connected in a way that was beyond father and son. That alone was unique and she loved her son all the more for it. The brothers viewed the world through different lenses but their goal was always the same. Whatever they did, however they achieved their individual success it was all in honor of their parents. At just twelve and eight years old the brothers had lost their parents in a fatal car accident. Nana Ashley became their whole world.

Dear Readers,
Thank you for taking the time to read my words.
This story has been with me for some time and I'm feeling so good putting down in print.
Like Alina, I'm a dreamer and have fantasized plenty of stories. The one about me writing a book is one of them. Thanks for coming on this journey with me.
I'm truly interested in your comments. Please be gentle.
I still have to go through and edit and will do it tomorrow before I go forward.
🦋🦋🦋