Lost and Found

Chapter 3

"Every artist was first an amateur"- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The next morning he awoke to music blasting in his ears, his pants covered in paint, and his completed canvas of the couple he had seen last night. That was the most rest he had ever since he planned for this trip. He got up and realized he was almost late for his interview with Ivy Bloom Atelier , a French Art Studio he was hoping to intern at during his stay at Bibury. Back in New York, his professor who saw "not just lines but a means of salvation" through Vincent's paintings urged him to find a platform, a root for his talent to grow.

After another round of switching and pairing, he pulled on a black tee, jeans and, of course, his beige coat and black boots as always. He grabbed his portfolio he had prepared on his flight journey here, a cup of coffee downstairs, and made his way out of the hotel to grab a taxi to the studio. When he got there, he ran his hand through his hair, wet his lips, took a deep breath, and walked in with a bright smile. As he walked into the gallery, he stood for a couple of minutes in awe at the different paintings on the showcase.

        "Are you Mr. Laurier by any chance?" He turned around to find a woman about the age of 30 with a homely and welcoming aura.

        "Oh!" he turned around with widened eyes. "Yes, that would be me, Vincent Laurier, pleased to meet you Ms..?"

        "Kathleen, Kathleen Stone, I go by Kathy."

She shook his hand, and led him through the walkway into the office at the back of the gallery.

         "You seem to be new here, did you recently move?" Kathy asked, observing his unique attire and behavior with one eyebrow up.

         "Uh, yea I actually came here for a business trip, but I really enjoy painting and was hoping I could intern here during my stay." He had prepared a whole entire speech before walking in, but felt it unnecessary to be so formal in such a friendly environment, but also, realistically speaking, he had forgotten most of it by the mix of excitement and nervousness now.

        "Wow, very rare to see youngsters so passionate about art nowadays. However, we do have many people coming recently for interning here due to summer vacation..." Kathy trailed off.

         "Oh..that's alright I probably shouldn't have come here expecting to be automatically given a position" Vincent hurriedly spoke with a nervous laugh suddenly feeling a deep sense of embarrassment and disappointment as he realized that it was foolish of him to assume he could actually have a chance in this new place with new people.

         Observing the frown taking upon Vincent's face, Kathy chuckled, "I never said that means you could not have a chance. Everyone needs an opportunity to be discovered. I saw you the other day sketching that couple, it was beautiful. And I can see the true love for art in your personality and gestures. I will give you a chance to prove yourself this week, and if you do well fitting here in this studio, the position will be yours!".

Vincent's eyes lit up brighter than the stars and a wide grin took upon his face as he screamed thanking Kathy, when he realized everyone around the gallery was staring at him.

Realizing his unconventional dramatic manners in the silent environment surrounding him, Vincted blushed and sent apologetic glances to the people around him as some responded with smiles congratulating him and others flared and left.

He whispered another "Thank you" to Kathy before he left the studio gallery.

His bright smile was more genuine than ever as came out of the gallery subtly skipping. He realized he should head toward the bookstore before doing anything else, so he would not forget, again.

*play song*

The door bell chimed as Vincent walked into the familiar place again, except this time the area seemed to be slightly crowded. He continued his walk to the aisle, in which he left his book, but when he got there he noticed that it seemed to be missing. He frowned and a wave of panic took upon his face. He bent down and looked under the racks, and if anyone saw him now, they would think that he's crazy.

After a while of searching, he seemed to notice that the book was not in the aisle. He huffed, and looked around to see if anyone was nearby to help, when his eyes landed upon a man.

      "Excuse me Sir, would you have happened to find a book lying on the ground there?" he asked as the man was sipping coffee, casually lounging on one of the chairs.

       "No, I haven't." the man said and Vincent sighed sadly. "Would you happen to know anyone who works here, that could help me?" he asked with a slight smile and hopeful eyes, as the man placed the coffee mug on the table and looked at him.

     "Kierra should be around here somewhere" he said as he stood up and brushed his old kaki pants. Vincent frowned not knowing who Kierra is, and why she would be in the library.

      "Oh. My apologies son" the man patted his shoulder and chuckled. "Kierra runs this place, the owner" he said and Vincent nodded. "She should be able to help you find your book. Wiat here let me try to find her" he said and left Vincent standing in the middle of the library.

He sighed and sat down on the chair, drumming his fingers on his thighs. He picked up a magazine from the table and was about to read it when, he found a book on the table. He scrunched his eyebrows and took the hard material into his hands when he saw that it was his book. A wave of relief washed among his face, and he smiled at his most prized possession.

He leaned back on the seat, making himself comfortable and opened the book to resume his reading. But then, he noticed something unusual. Inside the book, he found a new note. He could immediately tell it wasn't written by him as the handwriting was much neater and delicate.

He opened it up and read:

Sometimes, in order for one tree to survive, the other has to sacrifice itself. To see the other tree blossom and grow with other seeds. The beautiful sight that is continued to be cycled makes the sacrifice worth it.

He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, he took out his notepad and began to write:

For someone who has never seen a sacrifice or favor returned, I find it unfathomable how it could be done with the same intense genuineness with which it was given. Despite however great the outcome of the sacrifice may be, it will never be the same as before. Instead, will remain as a disturbed and changed version of it, the newer tree, that is, could never replace the old one.

He wanted to take this chance to answer that one question that has bothered him all along:

Do you think it is worthwhile to have something start, when it is not bound to end well, and have something or someone changed, when the one who brought that change does not remain?

He hesitated a bit before leaving the book in the same position, and he stood up to see if the old man was anywhere near be. He sighed and looked at the time, and noticed that it was getting quite late and he had to go to his meeting. He took out his pen again and wrote a small note and placed it on the table, walking away from the library to his meeting.

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All the love, Kez and Maz

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