Chapter 28: Of Worth and Devils - Pt 3 of 4

(Rough rendition of Nelly “Mirror ... Mirror on the wall”)

“I just don’t see him as “Shere Kahn” out of the “Jungle Book”, Perry joked with a warm smile “more like “Toulouse” from the “Aristocats”, he added with a good natured chuckle, as he came out of the recording station on the upper floor of the bookstore, in tow behind Aisha has he locked up the studio talking about how she’d selected her pet cat “Rajah’s” name. She couldn’t help but laugh with him, the sound echoing through the bookstore. It was a Saturday, so they were just covering for four hours today and three hours tomorrow on Sunday, but it was more optional than typical weekdays with Cane always ready to fill in himself, if they needed him to come in for something specific or were short staffed. Today especially, as he walked around the now mostly empty gallery except for himself, Kate, and the two other gallery event winners after Friday’s conclusion, which consisted of a young twenty-year old Asian American Sandra Wong, who was about average height, with volumous dark chestnut hair with light undertones Kate fell in love with, since the moment she’d seen her in the original event they’d hosted in the studio, but was unable to tell her then because of her need to quickly display her art and head to the tattoo parlour, which she worked in at the time, limiting her time for any real greetings once she’d met up with Perry and Aisha there.

Sara herself was abit “mousy” in the sense that she was smaller and more petite than her age suggested she was, with a cute button nose and a smile that could break your heart with its sweetness, as it naturally involved scrunching up her face in an adorable way that made her impossible not to love. She could easily see herself being great friends with her and that was even before she saw her style of work, which if Kate’s could be considered dark bordering on hostile hers was the direct opposite.

Her first piece had been a recreation of the feast celebrated at the end of a “Charles Dickens” “A Christmas Carol”, with realistic depictions of Scrooge, Bob Cratchit, and Tiny Tim, surrounded by the warm glow of a fireplace and the welcoming embrace of the festive season alongside family and friends, in a rosy cheeked bright colour style reminiscent of Coca Cola ad styles from the 1930’s, she’d studied called “Haddon Sundblom” and had fallen in love with. It uplifted her to see something so simple captured like a snapshot in time as all three main characters shared a moment of mirth surrounding what appeared like a joke between them, their expressions felt natural like she’d seen it a hundred times on the faces of her family members and friends alike. It was simply named “A Moment to Remember”.

Her second work clearly inspired by H.G.Well’s The Time Machine showed off “the machine” itself in all its glory a true replica to the 1960 film based on the novel, except every feature on the device, even as it sat alone and untarnished seemed to glitter a sparkling gold, as an untraceable light source highlighted the very realistic portrayal of the movie prop, that in the portrait as it sat, waited seemingly for the viewer to take hold of it and barrel through time with clear abandon for the consequences. It was titled almost ominously “The Machine is Waiting”, as if hinting that such a powerful creation such as one that could travel through time could possibly have a sentience of its own, and a willingness to seduce the viewer with the promise of more yet to come. It was clear she had a soft spot for the whimsical and heartwarming, something she found she had in common with Sara.

Her third and final piece surprisingly was based on Frankenstein’s monster often mistaken for Victor Frankenstein the creator; in Mary Shelley’s novel he’d never received an official name not even by his own creator who’d rejected him outright. The creature in question could be seen sitting on a jutting boulder in a position eerily similar to Auguste Rodin’s “The Thinker”, clothed in a modest, black robes, his concentration broken as a small bird not unlike a robin distracted him from his reverie, as he traced it path through the air, locking eyes with it at the zenith of its flight as the bird itself looked back at the creature, whose mood seemed to suddenly lift as he marvelled at its natural grace and form. His own in reflection was a stitched up contradiction of different smaller pieces trying to find purpose and hope as a larger whole, as a threadbare, coppery haired scalp coupled with mismatching eyes, and ears that seemed almost too small to belong to him in proportion to the rest his features, along with a split lower lip, with dangling, oddly fitting and angled teeth, were exposed in the rough but sincere form of a smile, as he looked up and captured a moment of clarity, framed by the great outdoors on a snowy day amidst a pine forest. Behind him great glaciers loomed in the distance and signalled to the avid reader that this moment was captured before the last few pages of Mary Shelley’s novel, finding an unheard of peace in the vastness of nature, contemplating his existence and the fate he’d been handed, despite nearing the conclusion of his tale, the glaciers behind him denoting the impending end of his journey. Yet he looked as if he’d found peace with it all. It was titled “A Turning Point?” leaving the interpretation open for the viewer to ponder over as they gazed upon the scene.

Kate felt a twinge of sadness as she looked at the last piece, her own love for the classic novel resonating with the depth of emotion Sara had captured. “It’s beautiful, Sara,” she said sincerely, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve really brought out the humanity in a creature that’s so often misunderstood.”

Sara blushed, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as she looked at Kate. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I wanted to show that even in the darkest of stories, there’s always a glimmer of hope, of finding peace within ourselves.”

The two artists shared a knowing smile, each understanding the depth of emotion that went into their work. It was in that moment that the bookstore felt less like a place of business and more like a sanctuary for souls to connect.

The third finalist who had taken second place looked at least on the outside like a darker more broody version of Josh Hutcherson, which took both Sara and Kate off guard for a moment obviously realizing it wasn’t him even though the resemblance was uncanny. Similarly like Kate he hadn’t been available to do much more than set up his work, as she barely remembered catching glances of him at the event as Cane chimed in. “Careful ladies it’s not polite to stare especially with gaping mouths”, Cane pointed out with a slight grin, as both Kate and Sara both realized they had been caught ogling the young artist.

“Believe or not”, he said as he laid his hands affectionately on as of yet unnamed young man’s shoulders who apparently knew Cane well enough to not be surprised by the gesture. “His name is actually “Warren Nells”, you might know his aunt and legal guardian who goes by the nickname “Nelly”, whom many people confuse for her actual first name which is “Bridgette”, he said with a warm smile as Kate’s mouth suddenly formed into an O-shape as she said “so your ... but your ... and she’s...”, she ended on the verge of stammering as Cane said “Firstly I do not apologize for Kate she is perfect, stammering and all”, he said with a sincere smile “and all she’s trying to articulate subtly is how incredibly well you contrast with Nelly’s flamboyant and irresistible nature and how much she adores the effect she has on the people around her, especially Kate’s mother whom she was friends with since they met in college”, he said with a loving grin directed at Kate, as she blushed and nodded, her eyes lighting up with fond memories of her mother and Nelly.

“We only met briefly”, Kate began as she regained her composure, “but she is very much an unpredictable force of nature by herself and her wife Florence, as I know her from the event seems to compliment her perfectly in a way that’s rare to find in people”, Kate said “She’s like a steady handy to Nelly’s eager trigger finger”, she said with a warm smile she felt like covering up with her hand lightly as she felt her cheeks warm up with the admission.

Warren chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she’s always felt like more than an aunt though, she even gave me my unofficial middle name you’ll probably hear her use more often than my actual first name, if you want an official preview now before she arrives in abit and starts using it like it’s going out of fashion soon”, he said with a small smile that had both Kate and Sara visibly intrigued, their eyes flickering to each other briefly before returning to him.

“In full it would be “Warren Peace Nells” according to her”, he said abit embarrassedly as he shrugged “as in War and Peace and how instead of a death “knell” you have a peace “Nell” without the k in it instead for my surname”, he said as Kate and Sara released a perfectly synced, joint “aw” at the same moment as they both found the sentiment behind it adorable.

As Warren responded with a small smile and a nod to them both, gesturing to his first canvas a portrait. The first thing Kate did was hesitate when she took it in almost completely. As she looked into it and saw Nelly, not at her current age, but younger maybe ten years or more, her beautiful alabaster skin made her look almost vampiric in nature as two, deep, searching eyes of darkest black seemed to look outwards searching for something it had found just within reach. Her shoulder length black hair framing her face lightly in wavy patterns naturally, as it met her shoulders softly. Her right hidden in her left, as three fingers reached out to almost touch her lower lip with three extended fingers, her index and her thumb hidden from view, seemingly wrapped around her other hand, the nails neither too long or too short, along with her lips showing off the only poignant show of colour in the canvas in a deep, curdling crimson against the palette of masterfully chosen black and white, in the soft light he’d painted her in. She looked like she was contemplating the viewer, sizing them up for something.

Her clothing consisted of a simple, black, semi-transparent shirt, the sleeves no visible at the wrist within the closeup scope of the painting. Around her, seemingly forming the frame of the portrait itself and acting as the only hint of where she was, was a grey metallic frame capturing her image and nothing more in a rough vertical rectangular shape, encompassing her entirely in its large design, and the background was just an unnatural soft light, barely distinguishable as anything at all. Some part of Kate recognized what that painted in frame could belong to, as its otherwise clear almost photo-like quality mystifying her until Warren hinted she read the title. She did so, as both her and Sara equally entranced by the image tore their eyes away to read the pinned card there which read “Mirror ... Mirror” “The Brothers Grimm”.

As Kate let the realization of what and possibly “who” she was looking flood her mind, she took a step back to appreciate the full picture, her heart beating faster in her chest. “It’s ... it’s stunning,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Sara nodded in agreement, her eyes wide with a mix of wonder and curiosity. It’s ambiguous nature lent it an almost naturally sinister turn, painting the woman within the mirror as either the evil stepmother asking the enchanted mirror before her who the fairest of them all was, or maybe even Snow White herself twisted into a dark parody of her, as the detail to clarity in the image he’d painted into it made her almost want to...

“It kinda’ makes you wanna’ check if there’s anyone on the other side of the canvas in case it’s not just a painting but the real mirror, almost...”, Warren said with no small hint of pride in his work as both Sara and Kate nodded in agreement, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and intrigue.

“It’s simple but at the same time grandiose, mysterious yet explainable, which makes it difficult to pin down”, he said adding his own opinion of his work, which both of them agreed with. It was like he’d taken a page out of the “Brothers Grimm” fairytale and brought it to life with a twist of modern art and psychological depth that could give anyone a run for their money if they tried to analyze it, Kate thought to herself as she took a step closer to inspect the brushwork.

Sara’s eyes lingered on the crimson nails and lips of the woman in the portrait, the stark contrast to the otherwise monochrome painting making them seem almost alive in the sea of soft light. “It’s like she’s inviting you into her world, yet warning you of the perils that may come with it,” she murmured, her own imagination running wild with the possibilities of who this woman, Warren’s aunt was like in real life.

“Allot of gallery goers thought the same thing’, Cane chimed in, leaving them until now to absorb the art without the need to hover over them with his crowding presence as he added “you two should have been here”, he said with relish to both Kate and Warren “Nelly had allot of fun convincing people it was an actual haunted mirror that was effectively stealing her soul by standing right in front of it, in with the same posture, the same emotive expression and placement of her hand like in the painting, as she pretended to maintain serious eye contact with “her” as if it were her double seeing through a looking glass from another world. Even as other gallery goers crowded her and slowly moved around her, she’d maintain the pose until she threw her voice like a ventriloquist and made it sound like the version of her in the canvas was saying the words “Mirror ... Mirror on the wall”, and people started freaking out”, Cane said with obvious relish as he clapped his hands together in delight. “We had to convince them that the art wasn’t cursed and that she was just having some fun, explaining the artist was her nephew, so everyone affected would calm down, it was a gas and I loved her for it”, he said with obvious delight. “Seeing how stuffy and serious art can become sometimes when you forget to have your own fun with it”, Cane finished, as he looked over the work himself.

Placing his hands on Warrens shoulders affectionately as he said “I must have viewed this one piece of art a hundred different times on the first night alone, I never got tired of doing so then and I still don’t now”, he said with genuine warmth in his praise for the artwork. “But of course I’m completely biased and so unfortunately was Florence but she got over it same as I”, he said with a smile “and recognized the true quality of the art within”, he said with a sure confidence, as Warren returned the smile with a nod of understanding, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“My aunt inspires the unexpected and I’m thankful for that and the memories she formed around this piece”, he said with genuine affection in his voice. From beside him both Sara and Kate could see it reflected in his eyes, and Kate felt a warmth spread in her chest at the bond the two obviously shared.

They shifted to the second piece, also a portrait, which to no one’s surprise showed off Nelly as his muse again. More or less at the same youthful age she’d been in the first piece somewhere along her mid to late thirties, her back to the viewer facing away to the horizon, except for her face looking over her shoulder with an almost guarded look, the direct and opposite impression forming here from his earlier piece.

Before they could absorb any more details Warren pointed out “I was suffering a creative block and when that happens I sometimes look at old family photos, my aunt knew this and offered me some of her own. This version you see here is inspired by one of her more personal one’s except in it she’s wearing a black dress and sitting over the edge of a bed. She loved how the soft lighting in the room caught her and the intimacy of the moment and I used it to base my idea around”, he said proudly as they returned their focus to her. Her back was bare but not unblemished, covered in seemingly random tattoos that weren’t magical or terrifying but oddly enough covered every inch of her skin from the neckline down to the small of her back and more, as she seemed completely naked and facing away from the viewer, arms crossed over her chest out of view, as her body art seemed to curl over her sides to her front, hidden from the viewer as she looked over her shoulder, a youthful image of innocence guarding a personal truth no one else but the artist seemed to know.

She seemed radiant, exotic on this hot summers day, her makeup, her hair had all been done in the same way as before luring the viewers into looking closer, as they witnessed this rare and simple yet profound oddity as they studied the context of the tattoos to try and define some meaning from it before they read the title that seemed to be in the form of a single sentence, spoken in the form of a narrator as he described the scene in passing “It was a warm afternoon in early September when I first met the Illustrated Man” - Ray Bradbury.

The reference was clear, and the style of the tattoos themselves was a blend of modern and traditional, creating an intriguing tapestry of stories on her skin. Kate’s heart skipped a beat as she took in the raw emotion captured in the portrait with the added context of title, as any tattoo artist worth their salt knew about the tale of the Illustrated man and how the book itself was really a collection of stories connected to each tattoo he had. “It’s incredible, Warren,” Kate said, her voice filled with admiration. “It’s like she’s sharing a secret with us, but only if we dare to look closely enough.”

Warren nodded, “I liked the concept of gender switching the main subject matter, and anyone not familiar with the story would be inspired to pursue it on their own after seeing this, inspiring more than just a temporary interest hopefully in the art I adapted, but also in the original work it was based on” he offered by way of explanation into his creative process behind the work.

Sara leaned in closer, her gaze tracing the intricate lines of the tattoos. “The way the light and shadows play on her skin, it’s as if each tattoo has a life of its own,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe.

Warren nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “That was the effect I was going for. To capture not just her physical beauty, but the depth of her character, the stories she holds within herself.”

“What did she think of it when she finally caught up with you later on?” Cane asked curious.

“She actually told me to remind all of you that her eyes are up here”, he said with a chuckle as he pointed his index and forefinger to his own eyes in a split V-shape over them, as everyone lightly chuckled warm heartedly. “And more seriously that she was proud I could approach such a sensitive subject matter as the human body without allowing it to be the only focus in my art, she appreciated my attention to detail and how I adapted it, and how that funnily enough she’d never had any body art done herself, for the simple reason that the human body in her opinion was already a work of art, just not appreciated as much as it should be sometimes”, he said with genuine emotion, seemingly beginning to lose himself in his own thoughts as said this, which caused Kate to nod in understanding.

“One of the reasons I always loved your aunt when we were together”, Cane began beside him as he patted him on the shoulder lightly “was she never made a habit out of lying, she’s terrible at it, horrible poker player”, he added at the end with joking affection. “It’s one of the rare qualities I always sought out in future relationships after we parted ways amicably”, he finished solidly as he looked Warren in the eyes with a warm, almost paternal smile.

Warren nodded thoughtfully at Cane’s words, and Kate could see the admiration in his eyes for his aunt. She felt a sudden urge to know more about the woman who had inspired such a powerful piece of art. “That and you knew I suffered no romantic fools”, came a familiar voice from the stairs as Nelly appeared with what appeared to be brown bagged goods in her hands, laying then out on the table they used to set up the coffee and pastries from the previous day which was now temporarily vacant beside the stairs. She was beaming happily as she came into view wearing a black leather jacket over a casually open black buttoned shirt, with a white blouse underneath, and some well worn black jeans that they couldn’t tell if they had been worn with age or if it was the fashion, which struck Kate as eerily close to what Cane had worn on their trip to the nature serve for a picnic not too long ago, but dismissed it as a casual coincidence, at first. Her shoes were simple black lace-up ankle boots, that made almost no sound as she came up to Warren and kissed him on the cheek as she leaned him close for a hug, as he was naturally taller than her wrapping her arms behind his head as they quickly embraced and she said “So how’s my little slice of “Peace” getting on with everyone?” she asked in a teasing, playful but maternal tone which stood in stark contrast to Kate’s last meeting with her and how she’d unravelled a story about how she, her mother and a good chunk of the faculty and the student body combined had hitherto addressed an unpleasant, bordering on all out abusive lecturer at the college they attended when they were younger together, by exacting revenge psychologically through his prized car.

She seemed now almost harmless by comparison, “Like a house on fire”, Cane chimed in as he stepped closer, leaning down to hug her himself as he said “and for your information I am was never hopeless, thanks to you”, he said good naturedly to her teasing “Kate can convince you of that if you don’t believe me”, he said with a playful smile of his own, as she replied with a casual, but high spirited “We’ll see”, as they embraced for a long moment then let go to as she went to re-examine the works she’d seen yesterday with her partner Florence in toe during the gallery event. Greeting Kate with a polite kiss on the cheek as she made her way to the first work and remarked “I never get tired of looking at this, even if I’ve seen it a hundred times already but not for some vain reason, more because of what it explores in its simplest form”, she said enigmatically before Sara asked “What does it explore exactly?”, she said with genuine curiosity as Kate watched her eyes sparkle with the same intrigue she felt when she first saw the painting. “Well, whether you’re looking at a potentially corrupted Snow White or the evil stepmother in her element “Peace” has done it so you can’t tell either way which one it is, blurring the lines between both”, she added with a fanciful, upbeat tone in her voice, as she smiled like she was rediscovering this truth for herself once again. “Nice little form of gas lighting isn’t it?” she mused aloud.

Warren nodded thoughtfully. “I wanted to create a piece that could be interpreted in multiple ways, leaving the viewer to wonder about the true nature of the woman in the frame. It’s a reflection of life’s complexities, how we often see what we want to see, rather than what’s truly there,” he said, his voice filled with the quiet confidence of an artist who knew he’d hit his mark.

“Aw”, Nelly cooed warmly at him as only a close relative in equal parts genuine affection and an embarrassing form of admiration only close family can express in the simplest terms especially over a younger sibling, as her smile seemed to light up the room. She stepped over to his second piece, his version inspired by the “Illustrated Man” by Ray Bradbury.

“May ask a personal question? Kate said as she got closer not wanting to put her on the spot, but unable to help herself as it rose unbidden. “Oh? What of?” Nelly began her gaze locked on the painting. “Have you ever been painted intentionally, you know as a model?” she managed to get out, wondering not for the first time if Cane had ever painted anyone else and if not Nelly then who? Especially in her youth when they’d probably been together as a couple, her mind began to riddle her with questions unbidden from her innermost insecurities not because she was prone to doing so but because Nelly just by being herself had sparked them with the paintings, displaying both the potentially dark allure and her equally contrasting and evident vulnerability as a human being, rooted in her evident fiery spirit that made her wonder why Cane had ever given her up as his girlfriend in their youth.

“I swear”, she began her gaze still locked on the portrait “I’ve been around artists tortured or otherwise for so long, after awhile I could just read their thoughts, the way you read graffiti on a wall”, she offered “so I don’t mind answering your question Kate, not at all, but I think you have more than one and their threatening to start ticking like time bombs inside your head, unless you take a breath”, she said turning her head towards her, as Kate suddenly let go of a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “There, see?” she said with a flawless smile and not a hint of a patronizing tone only genuine understanding. “I’m more than a little tickled that you thought of me in such high regard”, she said as she drew Kate into a small, welcoming hug, which she accepted, feeling the warmth and care of the woman she’d only met once before in person and even then the experience had been more than a little eye opening and even refreshing, touching on her mother’s personal history with a dramatic tale that had them both bawling towards the end.

“But don’t worry yourself so much”, she urged as she withdrew naturally from the hug, “if you feel strong enough for it, me, you and Cane can take a minute after to explore this sensitive subject matter because seeing as my “Peace” can speak of nothing else but how lovely your work is”, she said looking over her shoulder just to make sure she’d managed to hit her mark, and essentially kill two birds with one stone as both Kate and Warren seemed to blush at the same time at her words, “I think it’s only fair that I try to shoot the elephant in the room dead before any more discomfort or wandering thoughts about me or Cane sprout up in your fertile mind”, she offered with a genuine sincerity “how’s that sound?”, she asked plainly.

Kate nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “That sounds perfect,” she said, feeling a weight lift from her chest. The room seemed to brighten with Nelly’s candidness, and she realized just how much she enjoyed the woman’s company. “Cool and by way of assuaging further fears that I might snatch up your “one and only” let’s start with the first piece”, she said as they stepped over to it. Nelly’s welcome arm draped over her shoulders as they both looked into its depths. “I must be ... mid maybe in my late thirties here and with the right lighting the right angle so masterfully used here...”, she said almost comically loud with the intention to make her nephews cheeks burn with embarrassment with her obvious praise for his talent as Kate and even Sara nearby chuckled, as Nelly draped her other welcomed arm over her shoulders and drew her in, listening to them both as they tried to hold back a steady, childish and immature giggle which was what Nelly was going for, to diffuse the earlier tension she might have caused inadvertently, “ ... he’s made me look like a knockout, but more importantly than that, he made me feel as I want to be seen by others as something more than one-sided more than just a simple certainty”, she began her passion growing in earnest. “This piece makes you wonder whose doing the asking and why it’s so important you know who you’re dealing with, or if that smile you see creeping on my lips there”, she said pointing it out with a loose gesture of her hand “that smile could be the last thing and the last doubt you see, before you dare yourself to know the truth about me” she said looking unexplainably tired suddenly as if the introspection into her nephews work had taken a sudden toll on her. “But I’d rather be the question asked...”, she said eyeing Kate in particular as she said this “than the one ignored” she said “not out of ego or self centeredness but because we can all relate I’m sure, to a more than just a single moment in our lives when we were overlooked and the strength it takes to push past it”, she said solemnly as she looked towards the two girls for a form of simple acknowledgement that they understood her words.

Sara nodded her eyes still glued to the painting “I see it now, it’s like she’s looking directly at you, seeing right through you, it’s eerie and fascinating”, she said her voice a mix of admiration and slight trepidation. “It’s like she’s challenging you to know her but only if you’re willing to look deeper”, she offered looking towards Kate for agreement which Kate nodded in understanding.

Moving over to the second piece Nelly seemed to be staring herself down in a very real way as she said “here the same effect is drawn but from a different angle, using light to expose what the lack of plainly hid before in soft light”, she began her tone more professional but not devoid of emotion as Kate wondered not for the first time if Nelly had been an art teacher too, like her partner Florence. “It offers a contradiction where the first piece showed a confidence one could marvel at but not quite pin it’s source and therefore identity to, the second one offers a vulnerability plainly expressed here, linked between both the facial expression and the bodies exposed fragility. It humanizes “her” beyond any expectation of grandeur or mystery the first piece has to offer and adds a layer of obvious mystery to it, through the tattoos, exposed in such a way that you instantly learn just how much a part of her they truly are and how “she” is trying to tell you something with them about herself. A story that could only be made believable through a picture worth more than a thousand words”, she said her obvious passion and personal connection to the piece, showing off in her words, her choice of inflection, her tone, and her gestures as she spoke.