Chapter 4
The Art Gallery
“Linda Sue, if you had seen him, you’d have thought it was him too.” Heather couldn’t help herself.
“From the back?” Linda Sue queried.
“It was the same color hair, the height, the…”
They were in the art gallery in the back room that had been set up for an art studio for Heather.
The pretty blonde tried to be patient. “Even if I had known your Ian and I saw this man, I would have to think a little. First, Ian was lost in a very cold frigid sea some time ago. So Ian would have had to been found rather quickly and perhaps taken to one of those nearby islands you spoke of. From there, he would have just taken a trip across the pond as you call it, cross country and just happen to stop off here on the central coast. And, by sheer coincidence, he would go to the restaurant where you happened to be taking pictures. Although he didn’t speak to you or recognize you, he brushed past you and then disappeared. So far, is this what happened?”
“You are making it sound foolish. You really had to see him and know Ian.”
“Because it is foolish. Heather, you are very special to me and I am very worried about you. You have got to stop obsessing over this Ian. Many of us lose loved ones in some manner. Me, included. But we go on. The past is past. You can’t change it and you cannot resurrect the dead.”
“But, if it weren’t for me…”
“Stop with the guilt. Ian made his choice to go to sea. You didn’t even want him to go. But it was an accident. An AX I DENT, “She emphasized the words. “And he is not going to come around to haunt you.”
Heather stopped. Linda Sue was right. She knew it. Was it possible for her to go on? “I can only try.”
“That’s good enough, for now. But don’t think I’m going to give up. We can go through this together as friends.” Linda Sue pulled an envelope out of her purse. “This is for you. Happy birthday.
Heather pulled it open to pull out a card. It looked to have been computer generated. “Did you make this?” “Oh, oh, is this for me?” the excited young woman pulled out a gift certificate. It stated that Heather was entitled to a tea party at J. Henry Manor Tea Room. She squeezed the card to her breast with delight. “Thank you so much.”
“I keep telling you that you have to start taking care of yourself. Enjoying an elegant tea is to me a way of relaxation. Since my birthday is only a week after yours on April 28, we can go together. Then we can do some girl talk. In the meantime, tell me about this painting.”
It’s called mixed media with both acrylics and oils. First is a layer of various colors of acrylics. It works as an undercoat. When oils are lightly put on top, some of the under colors come through. This gives great depth. Great for ocean scenes.”
“Where and how did you learn all this? Surely not in your small town?”
“No, all I learned there was to watch the sea and get to know it as a close personal friend. Almost every day, in every weather, I would walk along the shore. I watched the waves as they came in and out, low and high tides. The light was so important. It mattered how the sun set on the horizon, how it danced on the water. But I needed more, much more.”
“What did you do?” Linda Sue sat on the tall bar stool watching Heather continue to paint as she talked.
“I read every book I could get on art and the sea. As you can imagine, there were not too many available in the town. But whenever we went into Aberdeen, I haunted the art shops looking for new ones.”
“I hate to interrupt this wonderful story, but what are you painting now?”
“This should look like Morro Rock and the waters around it.”
“Already looking good.” Linda Sue looked toward the shop area. “I sure hope we don’t’ have any customers for a while.”
“You’re terrible. How can I make money without customers?”
“Shh, just paint or I’ll get out my trusty whip.” Linda Sue laughed. “Tell me more about these fabulous books.”
“I will. Let me tell you about what I am doing now. First of all, I am scrubbing in this mix of blue, black and white into the sky area. As an acrylic, it will dry rather quickly. This includes Morro Rock. Over here, I am putting in a very light pink scrub.”
“What time of day is it? Sunrise? Sunset?”
“Actually, late afternoon.”
“Is there pink in the sky at that time?
“Not really, but I am only doing a hint of pink, very light.
“Are you going to put in an eye in the waves? Somehow, people love that feature.”
“Yes, this time. But, I have to make sure that the sun is at the right level to shine through the waves. Realism. So important.” Heather put down the brush. “While this dries thoroughly, I will start on another.”
“Why do you do that?”
“In order to get some effects, certain layers of oils have to also be thoroughly dry. So if I am working on two or three paintings, I can go from one to another allowing the paints to dry. It’s only sensible.”
“You were talking about some books. Was there any one in particular that taught you a lot?”
“Oh yes, and someday I hope to meet the man. He’s actually not all that far from here.”
“Where?”
“Santa Barbara.”
“That’s less than 100 miles from here. I don’t like to drive a few hundred miles round trip in one day, but we can stay one night…”
“That would be great, but I would rather wait until I am more successful here before I meet him.”
“If his book did so much for you, why don’t you see him now? You are already a success.”
“Not enough. I’ll let you know when I am ready.” This was the first time she spoke with conviction and determination. Linda Sue was amazed and delighted. Heather did have some backbone. Wonderful.
“Fine. You let me know.” Linda Sue responded to the door chime that announced a client. She left the art studio to go to the front of the shop.
For a short time, Linda Sue took care of her customer and Heather continued to work with her acrylics, winding up with three paintings ready for the oil. At each easel, she had placed copies of the photos she had taken at Morro Rock. Each was a different angle, slightly different times of day.
She recalled a statement in her favorite book. Someone had asked the artist if he used photos to do his artwork. He had replied that yes, he used photos and in a few moments had added that he also used readymade tubes of pigment as well as readymade brushes rather than gather dog hairs. It made sense to use photos. That way you could catch the ocean at its best, in the right light and best time of day. Like her favorite artist, she took liberties to add what might make it look better. As she recalled, one very young girl in an art class had stated with hands on hips that she had the right to paint, as she liked. It was the “artistic license.” Heather smiled at the memory.
“You’ll never believe it. I sold one more of your paintings. You had better get to work and I had better order some gilded frames.”
“Wow. Sounds like I had better work day and night.”
“No. They’ll wait. I don’t want to sell them with a “Don’t touch, wet paint” sign.” Linda Sue laughed.
“How many do I have left that are dry and framed?”
“I think there are seven left along with two that are almost ready to be framed.”
“I can’t believe this. I am actually becoming a success. Do you think it will last?”
“Will you stop? You are a success and I am sure you will continue. Believe it. Now what is the name of this artist genius? I think we better plan on a trip.”
“Buck Paulson.”
“I think I’ve heard of him. He’s in several galleries and also quite a success. If I’m not mistaken, he sometimes teaches classes.”
“Really,” Heather smiled. “Do you think I could take some classes? Suppose it changes my way of painting? I mean I don’t want to paint exactly like him.”
“First of all, I am sure you will always maintain your own style. Taking classes will only improve your own talent.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Now, you get these three done and we will start planning for some classes and a trip to Santa Barbara.”
Heather was already preparing the oil mixes. “I have a lot of mixing to do. That is what makes the paintings so unique; the colors. I think if it alright with you, I will work until you close tonight.”
“It’s my late night. I won’t close until nine and then it takes at least thirty minutes to finish. I won’t be able to get you back to the hotel until ten or later. You do need your rest and may I remind you, a meal.”
“I’ll let you send for something, anything you like. I won’t be happy until I get all three of these ready and if I have time, I will start on a few more.”
“It’s all well and good to fill up my walls with your paintings, but you don’t want them to flood the market. Hard to get raises the prices and desires. So do the three and start on what you want, but they stay in the back for several weeks.”
“Well, as you know, it really takes six months to really dry and be ready for the varnish. But I do want to put them out as fast and good as I can. I don’t care if you do keep them in storage and ration them out. I want to do my part.”
“You do. Now stop worrying. I will allow you to work this one night late, but I am going to limit your working time. We want to continue with quality, not quantity. You have enough to do to take photos, plan paintings, possibly take lessons and eat.”
“Nag, nag, nag. I promise I will start really trying to eat, if you stop with the nagging.”
“Okay. I guess I am over doing it. It’s just that….”
“Never mind. Just stop. If I don’t change my ways, I give you permission to start again. Just give me some time.”
“Okay, it’s a deal. One more thing. Try not to see this ghost of yours. It just might be your lack of nutrition that causes that.” Linda Sue reached out her hand to Heather to consummate the agreement.
“Wait,” the younger woman pulled back her hand. “Eat? I will do my very best. But I am not ready yet to give up my “ghost” as you call Ian. I am seeing someone or something.”
“I’ll go for that. You eat and I will forget your friendly “ghost”.
“Fine; now let me get back to my art.”
What If Page 4