Painting Exquisite Memories
“On to the next, Ms Watson. What do you think about this painting?”
“Yes, yes. I like this portrait of me. The artist exquisitely captured my charms,” I said, pulling out my small examining glass.
In an art gallery amongst exquisitely crafted paintings, a new artwork was making the waves, in not just in the art world, but also in society, causing a societal uproar among the normies. Going by the name Gawr Gura, she was a new artist making her debut in the art world. My tour guide, Ms Ninomae stood to the side, gesturing with a hand at her debut work.
“But there seems to be a lapse in my understanding,” I said, pulling away my small examining glass. I sought Ms Ninomae’s clarification. “Forgive my rudeness, but is this completed, I do believe?”
Ms Ninomae widened her eyes before letting out a small exhale.
“To my understanding, the artist got caught up in what I'd say, the gaming world.”
“Gaming?”
“It seemed to have consumed much of her time that the work was retrieved unfinished.”
“I dared to question what method was used.”
I kept that last statement to myself, but it seems Ms Ninomae heard it and did not press the issue. All I saw was a crooked smile.
But I must say, for an unfinished work, I saw all its intricacies and observed them in delight. But upon learning that the artist's piece was pulled away from them, the paint strokes conveyed a different meaning. It's like I could see the confrontation before my very eyes.
Ms Ninomae clasped her hands together and tilted her head to the side.
“... Do you, Ms Watson... still have an interest in buying the work?”
Ahhh, that.
I specifically came to purchase a work of art. But after hearing the story, my motivation dwindled. It is quite a shame, but buying the work would mean supporting the misdeeds of the artist and the people that pulled the work from her possession.
Ms Ninomae looked deep into my eyes, probably not realizing the reasons spilt from the horse's mouth.
“Who can say? Maybe there's a way I could talk to the artist.”
“We can't allow that.”
Instant rejection. Ouch.
“A phone call?”
“Not possible.”
“Direct message?”
“Insta denied.”
“Ol fashion email?”
“Outdated, and impossible.”
It seems whatever method I'd tried to convince her with, wouldn't work. Like she was deliberately not making me contact them.
Is the artist such a bad person? If they play games, I think they'd be easier forms of people to talk to.
A commotion happened behind.
“Ms Gawr, could you please!”
“Gimme back my painting before I ransack the place!”
“There's no need for hostility!”
“Why don't you gimme some hospitality, then?! I'm a new artist on the scene! The least I deserve is some respect!”
At the entrance of the art gallery, someone was making a rude disturbance. And apparently, this person was the same person I'd been discussing with Ms Ninomae. I turned around, as Ms Ninomae advised against it.
“Is that her?”
“I wonder the same thing, haha. Now, can we look back at the painting and make an evaluation.”
“I'm going to talk to her.”
“I'd rather you not, Ms Watson.”
“Eat my dust then.”
“Excuse me, miss?”
I made my way over to the confrontation, as they hadn't found a way to get inside. Standing behind the guard, I tapped on his shoulder.
“Excuse me, good sir.”
“Uh, ah. Ms Watson. I'm sorry, but I'm not in the position to assist.”
“Who's that person?”
“Don't mind her, miss. She's an intruder.”
“But you addressed her as Ms Gawr. Is that the person that created the painting I'm buying? I wish to speak to her.”
“Unfortunately...”
“... You don't want to lose your job, I understand. If that's the case, let me speak to her.”
“Ugh.”
Left in a compromising position, he let her pass and...
“Hello, Ms Gawr Gura. First off, I'd like to say that I'm—”
“Outta my way pipsqueak! I have even more important things to do!”
... She bumped into me and walked past. I was left in shock.
The disrespect!
Ms Ninomae came forward, blocking her way.
“Ms Gawr.”
Spreading her hands in both directions, Ms Ninomae blocked Ms Gawr from her painting that was on display. Ms Ninomae’s smile faltered. And as for Ms Gawr, she let out an insensitive remark.
“For someone who wears platformers, you sure are height sensitive.”
“That's irrelevant!”
Ms Gawr's words were harsh.
“Step aside.”
“I can't do that.”
Sensing her determination, I walked over to the duo and placed a hand on Ms Gawr’s shoulder.
“I said—”
This was the first time we'd made eye contact—and when we did, her mouth gobbled for air like a fish out of water.
“Pipsqueaks should, um... Yeah... Hi...”
She calmed down for some strange reason and her temper tantrum dissipated. This works both in my favour and for the art gallery workers.
“Um,” she said, looking up at me with fragile eyes. “May I ask for your name?”
What's this feeling? The last time I checked, I wasn't gay. But this small, dainty young girl is looking up at me like a lost child. You won't capture my heart that easily, that's what I'd say if I wasn't feeling a rush of emotions.
“Amelia. Amelia Watson.”
“Say, Amelia Watson, why don't we ditch this place for somewhere more claustrophobic.”
“Claustrophobic?”
“Yeah. Being surrounded by these paintings doesn't sit well with me. Let's say we make our painting at your place.”
“Does that mean what I think it means?”
“It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”
I looked at Ms Ninomae, and she seems to have no idea. Was I the only one not getting the full artistic rendition, or did the brushes run out of colours for it to come in contact with?
She grabbed me by my hand as we walked towards the exit.
“Um, what about the painting?”
“It's not like I was going to make money off it anyway. I did it just because.”
“But I was the person going to buy it. And I was the person in the painting, wasn't I?”
“The painting has lost its meaning since I met you.”
As I stumbled my way toward the exit, our love story played out behind closed doors in my flat. During our painting session, I'd long forgotten the reason why I'd headed to the art gallery.