Chapter Six

Terry waited anxiously as the young men unloaded the most important piece in his collection. Nerves twisted his gut, and he tossed back another antacid. He’d just finished pouring his soul into the portrait two days ago, and it wasn’t contracted—yet. The show opened tonight, and he’d fight tooth and nail to have his prized canvas included.

In his heart, he knew this portrait would be the pivotal piece in the show—that one important statement which connected all of his other artwork together. Solitude would leave people talking about it and him for weeks, if not months, to come. He just had to nudge the gallery owner a bit more to see the logic.

He’d spent countless hours on the phone with Julianne, owner of Beauty in the Desert Art Gallery, saying and doing everything he could think of to get her to agree just to take a look at Solitude. He’d poured his heart out, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d done a good bit of groveling. Finally, even at this late date, he’d been able to persuade her to at least see the canvas, albeit reluctantly. Winning the first battle had him breathing a little easier, but he still had a long road ahead of him to get Solitude in the show.

Under normal circumstances, getting the gallery owner to agree to his terms would be an almost insurmountable hurdle. But Solitude could never be considered normal by any stretch of the word. Julianne had grumbled about adding the canvas to the collection for a multitude of reasons. But after he’d informed her that Solitude wasn’t for sale, her decision to leave his masterpiece out had solidified.

Being honest with himself, he could understand her position. After all she was in business to make money. Even though she hadn’t come right out and said so, he knew there were other concerns as well. Her art gallery was considered one of the up and coming, hot new businesses in Scottsdale. She wouldn’t want to garner a reputation which made her appear weak. He understood if she gave into him she’d be fearful of opening herself up to being trampled by future artist’s whims. We can be difficult. The more he thought about her concerns, the more his stomach hurt. He popped his last antacid. Trying his best to remain optimistic, he felt sure all he had to do was let her get a good look at Solitude. Once she saw his masterpiece, she’d understand the importance of the canvas and relent by including it.

Terry had always prided himself on diversity in his craft, working in many different mediums and styles. He’d never tied himself to a particular type of paint or technique. Doing so would prove too restricting and only serve to squelch his creative nature. With each new piece, something from deep within spoke to him. That inner voice always guided him in the right direction to capture the full potential of the subject matter.

Many times over the last few months he’d lost himself inside Solitude’s canvas. He’d sit down to work and hours later he’d be roused back to consciousness. Every time this happened, he’d find the portrait closer to completion. Elation prevailed as he realized his ego had stepped aside and allowed his soul to take over. This method had left him with a breathtakingly stunning result.

Solitude showcased the raw emotion he’d poured into his entire collection, but elevated his art to a whole new level. He was positive no one would be able to walk away from this portrait without being touched by it in some way. Art was, after all, something to stimulate the viewer’s senses and move them, good or bad.

The time had finally arrived. Solitude was about to be unveiled for the first time. Closing his eyes, he said a little prayer to the art gods. The next few minutes would be his make-it-or-break-it moment. Anxiety had his heart rate jumping as the back door of the gallery swung open allowing the men admittance.

****

Julianne stood in front of the covered canvas, wringing her hands.

“You’re putting me in a very difficult situation, Terry,” she said, practically snapping at him. “And I don’t like it at all. Please remember, my word is final when it comes to showing this canvas.” He started to object, but she shut him down with a raised hand.

“I know this piece means a lot to you, but the show is tonight, and I haven’t even seen it yet. Since you’re being so stubborn about not selling this portrait, I have the right turn it down.” Her eyebrows rose, silently asking if he understood.

“You’ll show it.”

His audacity never ceased to amaze her. She had to give him credit. The man certainly didn’t lack confidence. Artists! Julianne couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. They’re all egomaniacs. Flustered by his persistence, she felt more than a little harassed because Terry had requested—no, demanded a place of prominence in the show for this particular canvas.

What was she going to do? The man had more talent in his little finger than any other artist her gallery had ever shown. She had to admit to herself, though, this canvas piqued her interest. As much as that fact irritated her, Terry’s tenacity over the last few days had paid off for him. Curiosity had finally gotten the better of her.

“Artists know how to create, but I know how to show those creations. You’re stepping on my toes here, and I don’t like it one bit.”

Terry opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him short. “I know. I know. You’re sure that once I see this portrait, I will fall to my feet in hysterics and drool. I’m telling you it’s too late to center the show around this piece. If I like the canvas, we can put it over there.” She waved noncommittally to a spot in the corner.

“Julianne, it’s not my intention to tell you what to do with the show. You’re the expert here. All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind until you see the portrait. I’m positive that once you do you’ll change your mind about the significance of this piece. Solitude is too important to be put in a corner like an afterthought.”

Artists were passionate people. Julianne knew that and still Terry’s conviction for this canvas unsettled her. What in the hell am I going to do if I don’t like what he’s created? They were getting nowhere fast. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s just see what we have here first, shall we?”

As the final barrier slid from the portrait exposing it to the outside world for the first time, Julianne audibly gasped. When her mind finally registered the image on the canvas, she became completely still.

Terry held his breath in anticipation. The moment of truth had arrived. The first reaction to art was always the most powerful. His gaze stayed riveted to her face, her body language, and all the small nuances which couldn’t lie to gauge her response to this unique piece of his work.

When her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open, he relaxed a bit. When her hands covered her heart, he mentally fist pumped. Seemingly mesmerized by Solitude, she absently took a step closer to the canvas.

Holding her hand out to him, palm up, her gaze was glued to the canvas as she continued to study it. Her voice a mere whisper. “Provenance?”

He retrieved the photographs from his pocket and handed them to her. He’d taken the photos of himself working on the portrait at various stages of completion. With this type of art, the public demanded proof in which the artist had indeed painstakingly created every line, every little nuance, and every shadow.

Quickly shuffling through the pictures, she verified the authenticity of the work.

“What do you call this piece?”

“Solitude.”

As if enthralled, she nodded her head absently. “Yes.” Her voice was laced with admiration. “I see…no, I feel that, and yet…” Her head tilted slightly as if the portrait had whispered to her. “And yet, there’s a warmth, a feeling of hope for future sociability engulfing her. My God, Terry! It’s as if this portrait is a living, breathing entity.”

Talking to herself more than actually positing a question, she uttered, “How in the world were you able to get such an otherworldly quality to such a realistic visual? Amazing.”

Pleased and more than a little relieved by Julianne’s observations Terry grinned like a proud parent. She wasn’t expecting an answer, so he didn’t offer one.

While creating Solitude, Terry had been consumed with doubt. Being so close to the sentiment behind the portrait, he wasn’t sure if he’d be the only person able to feel the emotion within it. Julianne’s compelling reaction served to reassure him—no, far beyond that. Her visceral response had soothed him more than the bottle of antacids he’d eaten for breakfast.

He thought back to that magical moment when he’d snapped the picture of Jody, which inspired the canvas before him. The pain of a broken relationship had crippled his best friend. Her heart had been shattered, left in tattered pieces by some jackass who couldn’t see past his insecurities. To help her healing process, he’d allowed his artist’s eye to capture what he’d seen and felt in that very special moment. She couldn’t see the illumination of hope surrounding her, but he could. Without Jody and the deep, loving, spiritual bond they’d shared since childhood, he wouldn’t have been able to pour his heart and soul into his creation. Without her openness and inability to disguise her feelings from anyone who paid attention, this portrait would never have come to life. Everything had to align at exactly the right moment to create such a piece of art. The canvas represented a culmination of the perfect emotional storm between two people, one hurting and one willing to heal. Without all of those things coming together in perfect harmony, Solitude would still be beautiful, but it wouldn’t be inspiring to its audience—it wouldn’t be extraordinary.

Julianne studied Terry as though she’d been star struck. “The portrait is outstanding. I want Solitude for my personal collection. I’ll buy the canvas for any price you name.”

Validated once again by her reaction, he shook his head and smiled. “As I said, Solitude is not for sale.”

Obviously still under the portrait’s spell, she returned her gaze to the canvas. “I hope you didn’t sell your soul to the devil to create this, but if you did, it was worth it.”

Terry threw his head back as the laughter erupted from deep within him. The thought of bargaining with the devil to craft such a divinely inspirational work of art was outlandish.

Julianne rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I want to thank you. I will be the first gallery in Scottsdale to show this new form of art, and what a spectacular specimen it is!” Excitement glowed in her eyes.

Her attention quickly focused back on Solitude. Terry’s trained artist’s eye could read her like a book. He recognized her distraction as her eyes glazed over. She’d stopped viewing the portrait as an observer. The time had come to put on her gallery owner hat. He assumed all the problems and technical minutia created by adding Solitude to the show at the last minute now had her undivided attention. She’d have to find the proper lighting, the proper placement, and the proper staging to do the canvas justice.

He’d just won the war. Solitude was in good hands.