Say Yes by Ashwood Eva

Author:Ashwood, Eva
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

15

Mackenzie

The night of the gallery showing seemed to rush up on me like a runaway train.

In the days leading up to it, I spent all my free time working on new pieces. I barely slept and probably wouldn’t have stopped to eat or drink if it weren’t for the fact that Walker delivered sustenance at regular intervals.

I felt a new sense of creativity flow through me, lighting me up from inside. It was even more intense than when I’d first moved into the house with Walker. I was trying out new styles, new subjects, new techniques. I was mixing mediums and experimenting with realistic, lifelike paintings. I would have dabbled in sculpture if there’d been enough time, but I put that on the back burner for the time being.

Walker was… incredible. He handled all the planning with Alex. Normally, Alex and I would split the organizational duties, but Walker refused to let me worry about any of it. He said he wanted me to take the time to focus on my art.

Every time I remembered those words and thought about the look in his eyes as he spoke them, my heart thudded a little harder in my chest.

It wasn’t just the time Walker gave me to work. It wasn’t just the effort he put into organizing the show. It was his belief in me that inspired me the most.

I felt like I was on fire, unable to stop creating.

Throwing caution to the wind, I strayed away from my usual go-to fantasy pieces. I loved them, and they would always be my niche. But it would be expected, if not by the general public—most of whom didn’t know my work at all yet—then by my fellow artists at the studio. And I wanted to surprise them. To show them another side of me.

So I did pieces that were more realistic. I painted Alex. I painted the twins. I walked up and down New York City’s streets, drawing inspiration from everything I saw. My collection was a vignette of New York, its people—rich, poor, man, woman—with just the hint of something more lying under the surface. The fantasy and mystery were much more subtle than in my usual pieces—a peek into the magic of NYC.

I even painted a portrait of Walker, although I wasn’t sure I’d have the guts to show that one.

I had snapped a picture of him looking out over the city line one evening when he’d come home. He’d been bathed in moonlight filtering over his suit, but there was a certain air of melancholy in the gaze he leveled out the window. I poured the most of myself into that piece, spending hours trying to get the mood right, to capture Walker’s expression perfectly, to lay out the contrast between light and darkness.

As I painted, I found myself drawn into his expression, trying to guess at his thoughts. He didn’t even know I’d taken the picture—he certainly wasn’t posing. But his face was so compelling, so stunningly beautiful.

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