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Somehow it was easier that way.
I visited Darren, the gallery owner who wanted to exhibit my art, and he surprised me in so many ways. Not only was he as tall and wide as Gabriel, but he was also more feminine than any woman I’ve ever met, with the way he swung his hands around in an exaggerated way. When he spoke he had that peculiar articulation of the sibilants where his pronunciation of s and z sounded as if he was holding his tongue between his teeth. I suspected the man didn’t really lisp but was expressing being gay in a dramatic way that was in complete alignment with his flamboyant style of clothing.
Not many would be able to pull off wearing tight leather pants and cowboy boots, supplemented with a neatly ironed blue shirt, a vest with a white and green harlequin pattern, and a pink bowtie.
It made for an interesting mix of how a cowboy, a biker, an accountant, a golf player, and a male stripper would dress. And as the cherry on top he sported a man-bun and a hipster beard. Darren Hill was a walking piece of art himself.
“I’m so happy to meet you, my little prodigy,” he said. “Bruce has told me all about you.”
I widened my eyes, hoping that wasn’t true.
“Oh, don’t worry.” He swung his hand through the air. “Bruce didn’t talk aboutwhyyou were in his care, and there’s nothing that goes on in that camp that can surprise me.” He leaned closer, put a hand to his lips, and lowered his voice. “I’ve been a client myself.”
Bruce had already told me that much. “Did it help you?”
“Oh God, yes,” Darren said with a dramatic puff of air. “Before, I was ‘Darren the Depressed,’ but luckily Bruce the Almighty helped me accept who I truly am and now I’m ‘Darren the Daring.’”
“Well, you certainly seem to dare being unique,” I said with eyes running up and down his outfit.
“Are you saying that you don’t like my sense of fashion?” The way he placed his hands on his hips made me nervous. Had I already insulted the man who was supposed to help me sell my paintings?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense,” I said but Darren just broke into a laugh and patted my shoulder.
“You should’ve seen your face, Bonita, I’m just messing with you. As you can see I’m not chasing mainstream validation here.”
“I can see that.” I looked around and saw some rather disturbing and interesting paintings on the walls.
Despite my first impression of Darren as a somewhat flighty person, he turned out to be very organized and structured when it came to his business.
He brought out paperwork that needed to be signed and pointed to his outfit. “It’s the shirt, vest, and bowtie part of me that keeps the business financially healthy so that the more playful part of me can have some fun.” When he said “playful” he wiggled his eyebrows and patted his leather pants.
I sensed this was an area I didn’t need to know about, so I just smiled up at him politely.
We got the paperwork sorted out, and since I didn’t have a phone I gave him Gabriel’s number.
“It’s actually perfect,” Darren said. “You see, I had an artist fall through, so you’re filling his spot for next week.”
“Okay, that sounds good.”
“Ah, I’m telling you, some artists are such drama queens and impossible to work with; promise you won’t be like that.”
I promised
“I see great things for you, my wunderkind,” he said and held my hand with both of his. “There is so much raw emotion in your paintings – they will sell fast, be sure of it.”
I took a few nervous steps before I blurted out the question I wanted to know the answer to so badly.
“How much do you think the paintings will sell for?”
“Not a lot, I’m afraid.” He gave a little pout. “Not because they aren’t good, but it’s just that you’re a new name, so we can’t charge more than two or three thousand per painting. But we’ll get you exposed and make them hungry for more, and that’s where we’ll make the real money.”
“And you said my cut was fifty percent?”
“Yes, fifty percent, so probably you’ll make a profit of between six and eight thousand dollars on the five paintings.
To me six or eight thousand dollars sounded like a million. I had never held a hundred-dollar bill in my hand, nor had a bank account. I was used to dealing with crumpled ones and fives, so to hear Darren talk about thousands of dollars felt surreal.
I walked back to Gabriel’s place in a bubble, making a mental list of art supplies I needed to buy in order to make more paintings.
