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    CLJobe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

ARROW - 48. Chapter 48

I painted a new picture of Teresa. The painting I had finished included the steps of the church. This painting was just her. I took it to Yale and left it on the Professors’ desk. He was teaching a class.

I was anxious to know what he thought.

Several days later, my professor called. He wanted to meet me at the gallery in town.

Walking into the gallery, I didn’t see my professor. I started to walk around, looking at the various paintings, then I saw my painting of Teresa. The price tag was 50,000 dollars. I looked again, this was impossible.

“It is sold.”

I turned and there was the professor and the owner of the gallery. I must of had a stun looked on my face. The professor started to laugh. “Armand, you have no idea of your talent. If I had told you that your paintings were worth a lot of money, you wouldn’t believe me. You sold a painting for 200,000 thousand dollars and now a painting of a young girl for 50,000. Does that answer your questions?”

“Is this real?”

“Yes, and if you come to my office, I’ll give you your money.”

Holding the check, I still couldn’t believe that I had sold a painting for that amount of money. I must of had a silly expression on my face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m finding it hard to believe I sold that painting for that amount of money.”

“If you have anymore paintings you want to sell, I’m sure George would be glad to display them in his gallery.”

“You know I send paintings back home for Mrs. McNiel’s gallery. She deposits my share of the paintings she sells into my bank account. I need to check and see what she has been depositing. She doesn’t set a price but she uses a bid process. Maybe I should tell her to set a price and not use the bid process. I am having a hard time getting my head around what that painting sold for.”

“You are becoming known. The name Arrow is becoming known.”

I couldn’t wait to tell Colin. I set the check on the dresser in our room. I knew that he would see it when he changed his clothes after work.

The club opened at 4, I managed the desk until one of the members of the Board arrived and took over. Wednesday and Thursday the crowd is generally less with most of the members arriving for Friday and Saturday. I saw Colin arrive, I got a kiss before he headed upstairs to change. It didn’t take long for him to come running, “Careful to you’ll fall.”

“Is this true?” holding the check.

“Yes, I sold the painting of Teresa.”

“Where?”

“At that gallery downtown. I had given the painting to my professor at Yale, 5 days ago. Today he called and wanted to show me something. So I met him at the gallery and there was my painting. It had a tag stating sold for 50,000 dollars.”

I watched as he went into the club. He returned a few minutes later with two glasses of wine. “Here’s to you. I always knew you would become a well known artist when I saw that nude of me. There’s not doubt in my mind you will become a great painter. I’ll bet you will have a painting hanging in the Louvre within 2 years.”

“You realize that you just said a lot of baloney.”

“No, it isn’t baloney. You just sold a painting for 50,000. How many artists do you know that sells a painting for 50,000 after being out of school for less than 3 years. If you don’t have faith in yourself, I do and I think I have enough for you as well.”

By the time the club closed, I think everyone knew I sold a painting, thanks to Colin.

I remembered what GG said, I must broaden my paintings. So I took my sketch book and headed for the park. In the mornings, I would sit on a bench, looking around. If I saw something that interested me, I would sketch it. Many mornings I would return with an empty sketch book. There were several parks along the beach front facing the ocean. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I would go to these beaches with my sketch pads. Even If I didn’t see something I would use my imagination. I had sketched children playing in the sand, boats on the water and even a fishing boat arriving with fish. I decided to buy a camera and snap photos instead of sketching.

I would sit with Colin on the roof and show him what I had sketched. Now I can include photos. He would look and comment. Based on his input and my feelings, I would begin to paint.

I continued sending paintings to Mrs. McNiel but not as many as before. I did send one to the gallery in town. It was a painting of the ocean with the rising sun. Colin liked it, he said it reminded him of a new day and a new beginning. I decided to keep it. I went to the gallery to get the painting. George told me it was sent to a potential buyer in Europe. He would let me know when the painting was returned. That evening I told Colin what happened.

“Did he say who he sent it to?”

“No, and I forgot to ask. He said it was sent overseas.”

“Well, let’s hope it gets sold before it returns.”

Colin:

“Dad, I think Armand needs better control over his paintings. He sold a painting at that gallery downtown. He took another of his painting there and when he went to check they told him they sent it to a buyer overseas. That is risky, it could get lost, destroyed or not returned.”

“Maybe he needs a gallery here that he can control.”

“Our anniversary is coming, maybe that would be a great anniversary gift.”

 

About two weeks after finding that his painting that went overseas was sold. The recipient wanted the painting and now Armand made another sale. He went to the gallery with another one of his paintings when George gave him a check of the painting he had sold overseas. Armand didn’t look at the check. He showed George the painting he brought with him. George looked at the painting, “Armand, I’m setting the price at 60,000. Let’s see how it goes. I’ll keep you informed.”

Arriving home, he placed the check on the dresser. He didn’t look at it. Some of the thrill of painting and selling his works, wasn’t there. He remembered Mrs. McNiel praising his work, George didn’t do that. When Colin came home from work, Armand told him that there was something missing when he takes a painting to the gallery in town. “When I took a painting to Mrs. McNiel she would always comment on them, telling me what she liked. George just tells me what he will list the painting for and I feel that he doesn’t appreciate my work except for the money it brings.”

“You look at these paintings as if they are your child. I think what Mrs. McNiel did was to treat them as your child. She is a mother and looked at your painting as your child. George is a business man and looks at your painting from a business view. Look at this check, this should tell you that the individual who bought your painting looked at it as something that was personal to him or her. Your painting touched something in them that they were willing to pay a lot of money to own your painting.”

Listening to Colin, it made a lot of sense to me. “Each painting I make has a little of me in it. Maybe I’m making too much of this.”

“You are, let’s go and have a glass of wine and see what Marcel has whipped up for tonight.”

 

Armand continued to paint from his sketch book or photos. On occasion he would take one to the gallery in town. As their anniversary approached, Colin was busy on his project. He, with his dad, had bought an old building close to Yale. It was three stories and at one time the first floor had a store catering to students. The second and third floor had apartments. The building had decayed to the point the apartments would not pass inspection and the store on the first floor had closed.

Colin brought in the men who worked on the club and converted the first floor into a gallery, refurbished the apartments bringing them up to code. Replaced the heating system which included a hot water system. Built bathrooms for men and ladies on the first floor next to an office.

A large sign was placed above the gallery on the first floor. The sign was simple, Gallery and underneath was an arrow.

 

On the evening of their wedding they went to the Italian restaurant. Armand had the photos Colin took at the village. Armand wanted to try a final time to get agreement to create the village. Again the owners said no. “Armand, you can create it on canvas.”

After dinner, they drove to Yale, where they met. Armand thought that was romantic. Parking the car in a side of a building, Colin convinced Armand to take a walk around the area where they spent time together. They stopped at Pete’s for a coffee, walked to the area where Armand painted the nude of Colin. On the way back to the car, Armand noticed the Gallery across the street. “Colin, wasn’t that were that old store was?”

“Yes, but I heard someone bought it and turned the store into a gallery.”

“Let’s go and look.”

Colin couldn’t believe that Armand didn’t see the arrow.

Walking into the gallery, there were paintings on the walls. Armand looked, these were his paintings. He looked at Colin to say something when Mary and John approached him. “Surprise!”

Looking at Colin, “Armand, this is your gallery. Here you can display your paintings. Mom will work here so you can continue painting. Think of this as, The Gallery of Arrow.”

Armand just walked around, looking everywhere. He would look at the painting on a wall, then look at Colin with a smile. He did this as he walked around. When he walked into the office, there was the Professor.

“Where you in on this as well?”

“No, this was Colin’s idea. But I do have a request. Will you allow other students to display their paintings, statues here.

“Of course, if you judge them worth being shown. Will they be for sale?”

“Yes”

“Colin, what is upstairs?”

“Apartments. Do you want to see one?”

“No. Not now maybe later.”

“Armand, tomorrow you will need to come and price these paintings.”

Panic was on Armand’s face. Professor laughed. “Armand, tomorrow I’ll help you set initial prices.”

That evening on the roof of the club, Armand thanked Colin in a way that only he could.

Copyright © 2022 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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