The Accidental Hacker

Chapter Four

I was a little sad to see them go as they were all six foot by three foot canvases (except the Hulk, his was six by four) so they were nearly life size and I loved them all.

But it was very welcome to know that my rent would be paid through Christmas and up until March (hey, paintings that size don’t come cheap). Now I only needed to worry about eating but I’d survived enough periods existing on baked beans on toast, so I knew that even if I didn’t sell anything else before the New Year, I’d survive.

Now I could concentrate on updating my portfolio (in between animal pictures) with the intention of visiting a few galleries in the New Year. And I painted new Iron Man and Loki portraits too. My studio didn’t feel like home without at least some Avenger’s pictures hung in there. 

I knew December would be busy, as people commissioned last minute paintings of their dogs as Christmas presents. For some reason, hardly anyone stopped to consider that an oil painting wasn’t like a print, it took layers of paint and time for each layer to dry, then more layers, adding texture and detail each time, and then more drying time.

Sadly, I knew that I’d miss out on a lot of Christmas business, simply because the paintings wouldn’t be ready to ship by December 23rd. Why couldn’t more people think ahead?

Still, you can hardly complain while you’re busy, and I would certainly be busy. My Christmas shopping was already done, because I knew I wouldn’t have much time for it in December.

In between updating my portfolio, I painted backgrounds, which is what Tom caught me doing when he phoned one Wednesday evening. I put him on speaker phone so I could still work.

“So, what thrilling adventures are you having this evening?” he asked after we’d exchanged pleasantries.

“Are you implying that I don’t live a rock star life?”

“Never, darling. So, what are you up to?”

“I’m painting a wonderful midnight blue canvas.”

“All the same colour?”

“Well, it’s slightly graduated.”

“Right… is, uh, is there much of a market for that?”

I laughed. “I’m painting backgrounds for my pet portraits.” I explained. “I get a run in December so I thought I’d get ahead of myself. It’s also very soothing, surprisingly enough.”

“Like a palate cleanser?”

“Exactly!” I loved how he just understood me (when I gave him the chance and wasn’t teasing him). “How’s your week going?”

“Oh, fine.” He was good at evading questions.

“Still doing the reshoots?” You can't say I haven’t given him plenty of chances to come clean with me.

“I am. It’s quite nice in a way, a taste of a movie without all the month’s of slog that usually goes in to them.”

“Oh?” I hoped to draw some more information out of him. Maybe I was wrong and he did act fairly regularly.

“Yes.”

Well, that didn’t work quite as I’d planned. I decided to drop the pretence. “Are you ever going to tell me what you’ve been in?”

“I hadn’t planned on it.”

“What about the reshoots, what are they for?”

“Oh, just a small indie film.” I could hear the humour in his voice as he thwarted me. Again.