The Artist | #3✓

Chapter 21

During the exhibition, I met Silvia in the crowd. She'd been walking about the exhibition hall, looking at paintings from other artists as our parents, along with the other well-known artists they were exhibiting with talked to the journalists, critics and spectators alike. It was about eight in the evening now. The exhibition had started at four in the evening and wasn't going to end till ten. 

"Are you bored?" Silvia asked me when I came to stand beside her. She was wearing a plain green dress with boots, and her curly hair was braided back in two rows. 

"Somewhat," I said, answering her question while looking up at the painting titled River Goddess. It was done in watercolor, and the fluid nature of the medium went well with the composition — especially the river background that was done in green and blue hues. I soon heard Silvia chuckling beside me, making me turn towards her to find her staring at me with a smile. Her bright brown eyes seemed dull today, and I wondered if it was due to the stress attached to the exhibition in general. The work put into the paintings, the setup, the crowd — all of it was stressful, and I could only imagine the stress since she'd finished her last few paintings just yesterday. 

"Me too," she said as her smile widened before looking back at the painting in front of us. "What college are you going to?" I think we'll be in the same one," she said, turning to face me again.

"ST. Jude's art institute," I said, watching as she nodded at me.

"Yup, that's the one," she said, making me smile a little bit. We walked about the exhibition hall together, observing paintings as we talked from time to time. She just seemed like she needed company, and I didn't mind being the stand-in for something more interesting.

At the end of the exhibition, more than half of the works were auctioned off. My mother seemed pleased and even took me about to introduce me to other artists. The thing about the visual arts industry was that you needed connections. People, in general, had a way of making artists give up their works for low prices, or for no price at all. They also neglected art as a legitimate profession. You only had to look as far as indie artists that got bombarded with requests for free works, works to give them 'exposure', and the laughable rates at which people tried to make them commission their art for — God forbid an artist tried to make a living out of their art.

There was strength in numbers, and that's why traditional artists usually moved in groups and sold works together, and mother was teaching me the reality of that. Our family had made a name for itself in the community at least four to five generations back, and all I had to do was pick up from where my parents — specifically my mother — left off. My mother saw me as a mini her, and although it unnerved me a bit, I understood where a good chunk of her behavior towards me came from.

After everyone exchanged greetings and the hall was cleared out, Silvia and her father followed me and my mother back home. My mum had invited them, bribing them with promises of good dinner and a discussion filled night. We were welcomed back by my father and sisters who were eager to hear how the event had gone. I noticed that Wyatt and Xander had already gone to bed. I didn't blame them, it was already past twelve when we'd gotten back. 

"Your style is mature, and you're just eighteen," Silvia's father said to me as we had dinner at the dining table. We were eating corn chowder. I looked up at him, smiling a bit before looking away.

"Yes, at this rate he'll have an established style by his mid-twenties. It will be like his signature. Training your kids with multiple art style approaches as they grow up works," my mother said to her friend, making him nod in agreement. My mother had encouraged all of us to go into art at a young age. She'd done it with Ava, but Ava eventually leaned towards designing and illustration, making her to bond with my father. My mother then put her focus on me and Wyatt. She gave up on Wyatt when it became obvious that he wasn't interested or capable, and she eventually put all her focus on me. By the time Candice came along, there wasn't really any pressure on her, and that's why she's a lot fluid in her style and approach. Art wasn't a do or die thing for her like my mother had trained me to think.