“Wow. That is so good. I have felt nothing for the last two weeks. I feel like I’ve been put in an endless holding pattern high above this city and while I see what I think would be a great painting, I just can’t feel it once I start to paint. Most frustrating.” Jessica said, her brow furrowed as she spoke.
“My late husband, Winston, he would call that ‘artist’s jail’ – it’s like you’re in prison. He always had a different way of saying things,” Ms. Lester answered, then continued, “It will pass. Perhaps you should meet a fine man tonight and let him inspire you,” Ms. Lester chuckled and looked to both young women for their reaction.
“I should think that it isn’t too late for a suitor to find you on this wonderful evening as well Ms. Lester,” Kinsey said as they stepped to the sidewalk and made their way toward the museum that was several blocks up the street.
They all laughed as the orange and red light of the city evening enveloped them, seeming to almost carry them forward, as they walked up the street.
5
Kinsey, Three Years Later
South Beach, Kinsey decided, was one of her favorite places. The skyline of the great city of Miami was the perfect backdrop, a beautiful frame, to the painting that was the art deco town of South Beach. She loved its white sands and big blue sky, its green and blue sea, and the people, the gorgeous people, who walked its sidewalks and played on its beaches, wearing nothing but the least amount clothing and showing themselves to the world. She loved to sit amongst them and just watch as they went about their days in the bright sun. They made her want to paint.
Kinsey wanted to stay here and begin her life as an artist but the town seemed to be full up with art that had already been felt, discovered, and brought to life. The town itself was a living work of art – of art deco and other forms that all seemed to breathe the people in and oxygenate them with the movement of days and then use them to add to its own oeuvre. Kinsey didn’t think she had enough to add. South Beach had come to life in the decades before her, and without her, and she needed to find undiscovered country. A place, a town, a country or a land where the light had yet to be captured and put to canvas.
Where that place was she had no idea, but she was young, she had a best friend in Jessica who wanted to do the same thing, and, after having stayed in South Beach for a week for a showing of their art, they were to leave for the west coast in the morning. Still, she wished she could stay longer. Perhaps the man of her dreams would find her tonight. Such a dreamer she was. She’d been thinking like this for three years. It had taken her three years to finish her masterpiece as she had taken to calling it, her Naked Sunset painting, her painting of herself in the evening light of the Holy City. What she had thought would take, perhaps, a long night or at the most two weeks to finish had in fact taken three years to complete.
She had started, stopped and started again on more canvases than she could count. But finally she had gotten it right. It was as best as she could do and it was her, a part of her, all of her, it was the gift of herself to the man who would love her back like she would love him.
She felt good about it. She was looking at it one last time before going down from the hotel suite that the artist’s new masters society had put both she and Jessica in for the week to the party that was being held for all the new young artists that were in town for their big ‘paint the town’ event. The party was being held on the pool deck by the beach of the uber-swanky Delano Hotel several blocks up the street.
The painting was now ready for her to sign, but Kinsey remembered her promise to herself, made three years before, that she would only sign it after she had given it to the love of her life.
She leaned it against the wall of her bedroom and entered the small living room of their hotel suite and made for the door to the hall. Jessica was down in the hotel bar, waiting for Kinsey to come down so they could catch a cab to the party.
Kinsey loved swank and this town was full up to its eyeballs in it. Having grown up as the middle child in a large Catholic family in Alabama, Kinsey remembered that her parents had always discouraged her natural inclination for anything ritzy and smacking of wealth. Kinsey understood why they did that; they were afraid she’d be consumed by the lifestyle and lose her way – her way to God as it were.
She didn’t agree with them. She could separate out the glamour and the fancy cheesecake from what was really important in life. She knew that loving and helping others was what all people were called to do. She got it. She just didn’t know why you couldn’t do it while living in an incredibly fun town. And while South Beach wouldn’t be where she chose to live she did know that she would put down roots somewhere that was much like it – a town with history, art and culture.
She entered the hall of the hotel and took the elevator down to the lobby. She stepped from the elevator and looked across to the hotel bar. She saw Jessica, resplendent in her bright outfit and her tanned skin – she was easily the prettiest girl in the bar – as she was talking to two handsome men. One was in the act of stepping back from the bar and handing her a drink. Kinsey smiled and made her way across the lobby to her friend.
Jessica saw her coming and smiled big, “How’s it going best friend? You look gorgeous. Step away from me and my new friends. I’m sure you’ll take away all the attention these two fine men are lavishing upon me,” she said as Kinsey stepped up to her.
Kinsey laughed and so did both the young men with Jessica. “It looks to me like you might have more attention than is good for you,” Kinsey answered.
“A girl can never have too much attention,” Jessica answered, “Dale and Connor here are making sure my glass is kept full. I’m sure they only have the best of intentions, right Dale?” Jessica looked over the rim of her glass at Dale as she took a drink from what looked to be a vodka and cranberry cocktail.
He looked back at Jessica and nodded his head. Then he spoke, “Scout’s honor, ma’am. My intentions are of the purest and truest kind,” then he smiled and added, “Might be time for me to top off your drink again. What do you think?”
Jessica laughed, “That was my first swallow of my second drink. Give me time to breathe.” She said, then asked, “So Dale, are you from the south? I think I detect an accent. ”
Dale was tall and thin. He had dark hair and brown eyes that shined with intelligence. He looked very comfortable in his own skin and Kinsey knew why – he was gorgeous. He was relaxed and confident as he spoke to Jessica. Kinsey could see in his eyes that he was attracted to Jessica in a big way.
He answered, “I’m from Atlanta and I find myself to be here in South Beach due to a job. I should be here until next week.”
“And what is your job, Dale?” Jessica asked as she placed her drink on the counter of the bar.
Dale looked about, like he was almost embarrassed to say, but then Jessica goaded him along and he said, “I am a male model. I’m here to stand in my briefs as the ocean water flows about my legs and be videoed and photographed,” he said it tongue in cheek and Kinsey didn’t know whether to believe him or not.
Neither did Jessica and she asked, “For real? I’m being hit on by a male model? I never thought that would happen.”
Connor finally spoke, “Then you haven’t been in South Beach very long. We are legion around here.”
Conner was shorter than Dale but not anywhere close to being short. Dale looked to be six feet, three inches and Connor was about two inches shorter at six feet, one inch. He had light brown hair and green eyes and a shockingly handsome face. He hadn’t shaved and his beard was perfect looking and would be thick, Kinsey noticed, if he let it continue to grow. She’d never considered dating a model but now that there were two of them in her midst she figured why not. Dale was for Jessica and she’d see how Connor turned out to be. He didn’t look to be her true love but he sure looked to be a lot of fun while she waited for her true love to appear in her life. Connor’s next words out of his mouth nixed that plan though – totally.
“I have to say up front that while I find both of you girls beautiful I’m stepping away for someone more my type who just came into the bar and I must make sure to be seen by him.”
Him? Kinsey looked about the bar and on its far side away from them she saw a young man, obviously gay, stepping to the counter to order a drink. Connor placed his hand on Kinsey’s shoulder and said he enjoyed meeting her and then he said something to Dale, in his ear, who then said back, “I won’t be late… unless say…” he turned to Jessica and smiled at her, “… unless say I end up whisking this beautiful young lady off to an evening of dancing, dinner and cocktails.”
As Jessica answered Dale, Kinsey watched as Connor left them and approached the man who had just entered the bar. Connor leaned against the bar and put out his hand. The other man shook it and they were immediately standing close and talking, each engrossed in the other. As Dale stood closer to Jessica, Kinsey suddenly felt like a fifth wheel and excused herself, telling Jess she’d see her later at the party.
Jess turned to her friend and said, “Text me if there is anything worth seeing there. I may hang here a bit.”
“I figured you might. You and your new friend,” Kinsey looked to Dale, “make sure to have a drink and dance for me as well. I’ll see you later tonight.”
Jessica nodded, “We have to catch a plane for L.A. tomorrow morning. Don’t let me forget.”
Kinsey remembered that they were to head to the west coast and begin showing their works at a new gallery and she wished that the event was still a few days out. She’d loved her week here at the beach and she didn’t want it to end. At least she still had tonight’s party to look forward to, she thought, as she left the bar and made her way to the Valet’s desk to call for a cab. It would be nice if she could meet a nice guy friend as well.
After a quick ride up from her hotel, Kinsey stepped from the cab as the valet for the hotel Delano offered her his hand and she returned his smile and let him assist her from the back of the cab. She thanked him as he closed the taxi door behind her and she made for the front door of the hotel where another valet held open the door for her to enter into the lobby. Kinsey stepped through the doors and found her eyes filled with beautiful white colors – she saw long, sheer drapes and tall, thick columns dominating a long, narrow, high ceilinged lobby. Air, gentle, comfortable and fragranced, blew through the lobby from the beach towards the front doors moving the thin fabric of the curtains and making the hotel seem to be almost alive.
The party was being held in two bungalows by the outdoor pool which were located through the doors on the far side of the lobby. She made her way through the lobby to the far doors, passing first a small sushi and sake bar, and then still another bar that was bathed in warm, soft coral lighting – it was small, intimate and full of customers. The soft lighting looked almost addictive the way it embraced the faded pink decor and Kinsey found herself wanting to stop in for a drink. She resisted the urge though as she was late for the party and she forced herself to keep her feet moving toward the outside doors. She made a mental note to come back into the bar after the party and have a drink before returning to her hotel room for the night.
She passed a pool table where a man and woman, he embracing her and helping her line up her shot, were playing a game that looked to almost be a mating ritual they were so locked in on one another, smiling and gazing and happy within themselves, oblivious to her walking past them. She became acutely aware that she longed for moments like that then she quickly turned her eyes to the doors before her and made herself get on with the reason for walking by them in the first place. She pushed through the rear lobby doors and stepped out into the beautiful South Beach evening.
She found herself standing near an outdoor restaurant at the top of steps that led down to the pool. The pool was long and full of blue water. On either side were small, open-aired bungalows that were used by the guests for parties and celebrations as well as a kind of home by the poolside for a day in the sun.
To her left, half way down, before the end of the pool and the gate that led to the beach and ocean beyond, were two bungalows full of guests having a party. There were many people both inside them and around them – most with drinks in their hands, some with small plates of food as well. These were her people – artists and those who loved artists and the arts.
Kinsey descended the steps and made her way toward the partiers. She was happy to see everyone there; she was comfortable with them for they inhabited and brought to life her world, her joy, her purpose, but lately she’d been feeling an emptiness, a dullness, a lack of desire in what she and they were engaged in doing each day. Kinsey felt like she had learned the techniques, as it were, of being an artist, and using those techniques, she knew in her heart, to reflect back to the world how she saw it, would be a lifelong and utterly engaging process. It was something that she looked forward to doing each morning when she woke up and got down on her knees to pray. She prayed thanks for the opportunity and thanks for the talent and she asked to please be able to do something that would make God feel justified in giving her these talents that she had discovered she was blessed with at such a young age. She desperately wanted to paint her name in the history books of great artists and be known, but it was beginning to seem such a lonely endeavor. What was the point of doing it alone? She longed for a man to share her work with and at twenty-three years of age it felt like he would never arrive in her life. What was God waiting for she thought as she stepped up to the perimeter of the party and was recognized and pulled by excited hands into its warm and living nucleus.
She was sought for by many people, both young and old, male and female, artist and art aficionado, as the party amped up and grew large in the late evening. A drink was given to her and then she and an old and good friend made themselves plates of hors d’oeuvres and stood to the side and watched as the party grew.
He was Mr. Barksley, an old family friend, who had been instrumental in seeing the talent to draw and paint in Kinsey at a young age and pushed her parents, who were on a tight budget raising a large family, to get her art lessons. He was now elderly, thin framed and almost frail. He had the warmest brown eyes and a gentle way with his words.
He was handed a drink by a beautiful young waitress, a glass of champagne, and after she had stepped away he said to Kinsey, “So what’s bothering you? I can read you like an evening news paper and I can see you aren’t happy.” Then he thought for a moment, smiled, and added, “Never play poker either, you’ll lose all your money, Sweetie. You don’t have a poker face in your repertoire.”
Kinsey laughed, “Mr. Bark,” she had always called him Mr. Bark since she was a small child. She couldn’t say Mr. Barksley as it had been too difficult for her young tongue to pronounce, so, with his blessing, she, and then later, all her brothers and sisters, had taken to calling him Mr. Bark. “I’m very happy. I’m just finding myself to be a bit lonely. I want to share life with someone. To be honest – with a man – a soul mate. I know God has someone for me but I’m getting so sad and lonely waiting for him to show up. What’s taking so long?”
“You’re twenty-three, Kinsey…”
“I know, ancient, right?”
Mr. Barksley laughed, “From where I’m standing, twenty-three seems to be almost a baby. I’d take twenty-three in a second.”
Kinsey laughed also, put her hand to Mr. Bark’s arm, “I know, but it’s your job to be older.”
Mr. Bark smiled and got serious, “Perhaps if you came to God, maybe in church, and said you wanted to live life his way, he might be more inclined to lead you?”
“I’m not a church goer. You sound like my Mom. I’ll find him. Life is for us to live. I don’t feel alive in a church, never have. It’s all so serious all the time.”
“Life is serious, Kinsey. At twenty-three everything seems attainable and easy; all of life is ahead of you, I get that, but …”
Kinsey had heard all this before. She found her mind w
andering, listening with one ear, and looking to the gate behind the pool and out to the beach and sea beyond, as her old friend and mentor continued to speak.
Through a gap in the palm trees she saw a small catamaran, its sail, deep blue and pink, lit up by the setting sun. It was sailing close to shore and heading north up the coast. There was a solitary man, he was young and even from her distant vantage point on land she knew he was beautiful (how though, she had no idea). He was leaning out in a harness, a trapeze, as one hull was lifted by the warm, blustery, evening wind and he worked the sail and the tiller, keeping the boat from capsizing. Kinsey wanted to be out on the sea, her hair wet with salt water, daring the powers of nature, the wind and the waves, to come at her. She wanted to be sailing with a man who understood her deepest longings and who lived to learn her secrets…
“Kinsey? Kinsey? Where did you just go? I lost you somewhere in my sermon.”
Kinsey found Mr. Bark looking deep into her eyes, “I’m sorry, Mr. Bark. I saw a sailboat go by. The man in it – he was having such a good time.”
Mr. Bark smiled, “What, you’d rather look at a young man on sailboat than listen to me give you a never ending life lesson? How could you?”
Kinsey loved Mr. Bark and his sense of humor. He never took himself too seriously and she found herself laughing with him.
“Maybe he’s the man of your dreams. He just sailed past you and you missed him,” Mr. Bark said, still smiling.
Kinsey pretended to be shocked at the thought, “Oh, Mr. Bark, have I missed him?” Then she continued in mock desperation, “I shall never live life again,” she said in an exaggerated, over the top way. She put her arm to her forehead and closed her eyes.
“I have an idea, Kinsey. Let’s take a walk out there. The beach seems like a better place to be than at this party. The evening is too full of light and wonder not to go get a good look at it. What do you say?”
Lights on the Far Horizon Trilogy Page 3