Page 11 of Art of Love
A chance to work with him in the art world was like receiving a plate of gold and doors to opportunity.
I’d fallen head over heels in love with his work and his talent all those years ago, but what I craved was the opportunities that would head my way if I got the chance to work with him.
My dream didn’t end here. I wanted to set up my own gallery someday. Not exactly like what John did with Impasso, but something more along the lines of what took place making my shows more interactive. His style was like what you’d see in a promenade theater, and it had that play-like feel. Like you really were at a show.
It was awesome, and I didn’t think much existed like it.
I sat in the reception running through a music magazine. It was a mindless attempt to focus.
“Jia Callahan,” the receptionist called out.
I lifted my head and smiled at her as she walked up to me.
“He’ll see you now.” She smiled.
I stood up and pulled in a deep breath. “Do you remember the way to his office?”
“Yes. I do.” I remembered all too well. At least I remembered something.
I offered up a smile and made my way down the corridor.
John’s office was up the stairs at the end, and it took up the whole floor. It also offered a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the whole gallery below, which he’d converted from an old movie studio. Situated in Burbank, which was like the movie studio land, the place was perfect. It was a small-time studio back in the sixties. A lot of budget films were done here, and porn. I heard that through the grapevine.
I made my way along until I got to his door. I knocked and pulled in a very deep breath hoping this meeting would go smoothly. I’d been told I got the placement, but the problem was, I couldn’t just fall back in line to where I had been when I left.
I had to go through everything again as if I was a new intern.
I didn’t see why since I worked with the company for over a year, but that was John. Like it or leave it.
“Come in,” his voice called, and when I opened the door, his smile greeted me.
His smile, which immediately set me at ease.
He got up from his broad leather chair and came to me to give me a hug.
“Jia. It’s so good to see you and have you back,” he beamed.
“Thank you so much. It’s amazing to see you.” That was the truth, and I could see he hadn’t changed one bit. He still had that eccentric style that made him look classy, and he still had that cavalier moustache that made him look a little like a French musketeer. With his black, wild curly hair, he carried off the look well.
“Come sit.” He ushered me to sit in the chair opposite him. There was another chair next to that, and I wondered if someone else would be joining us.
“I’m really excited to be back,” I bubbled.
“We’re all excited to have you back. The crew were ecstatic to hear you’d be joining us again. I do sincerely hope you haven’t lost your touch.” He tilted his head to the side and gave me a penetrative stare.
He had a playful manner about him, but I knew he was being serious. I may have to go through the standard trials like everyone else who joined, but I never had to re-audition.
That was a big, big thing. For him.
John didn’t do things like that unless he truly liked you.
“I promise you I’m better.” That was the right answer. Definitely not to tell him that I was the same because in his book an artist should never stay the same forever. Getting better was always the goal.
Sure, stay true to style but get better at technique and add to yourself.
I agreed wholeheartedly, and that was the very thing I’d done.
“Perfect. That’s what I love to hear.”
