by Marty Coleman | Jan 13, 2015 | 'In The Gallery', Marty Coleman |
Prologue
Beatrice was raised by a very judgmental mother who didn’t like her much.
Chapter One
Beatrice saw the mother and daughter on the street outside of gallery as she went up the steps. As she juggled her keys and coffee to unlock the door she hoped they would move along soon.
It wasn’t that cold out but it had been cold overnight and they were both barefoot. Their shoes had been stolen at the homeless shelter the night before. The mother, named Emily, was hoping the shelter would have extra shoes, but they did not. She had come downtown hoping the church caring center would have some and was waiting for it to open. She stopped in front of the gallery because there was a ledge just the right height for her daughter to sit on with her doll. Her daughter, named Cerise, had to go to the bathroom very badly. The mother was hoping she could wait until the caring center was open but it looked like she might not be able to. She finally decided she had to go into the gallery to see if they had a bathroom.
Beatrice heard the door open while she was in the back turning on the computer in the office. When she went out and saw it was the mother and daughter she rolled her eyes, sighed heavily and went up front to confront them. “Yes, may I help you?” She asked.
Emily said, “We are waiting for the church caring center to open down the street but my daughter really has to go to the bathroom. Would you mind if she used yours, please?”
Beatrice said, “Yes, she may, but make it quick.” She walked towards the back, sweeping her arm behind her indicating for them to follow. She pointed to a small door and said, “There, please be quick and clean up after.”
Cerise was quick and did clean up after. Emily thanked Beatrice and started to walk back to the front to go out. Beatrice stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and said, “Hold on a minute. I really have to say I am bothered by you allowing your daughter being barefoot in the city like that, not to mention yourself. It’s dangerous on the sidewalks with trash and glass and all sorts of things. Why are you barefoot?”
Emily explained about the shoes being stolen. Beatrice said, “But why did you allow them to be stolen? Why weren’t they on your feet? Why were you at a homeless shelter in the first place? Your child is very young, you should take better care of her.”
Emily by this time was holding Cerise close. Cerise in turn was holding her doll even closer. Emily said, “Yes, you are right. I wish I had taken better care of her. Thank you for letting us use the bathroom. We won’t bother you again.”
Beatrice said, “I hope you don’t and I hope you get your act together. It’s not good for her.”
Chapter Two
Emily and Cerise went outside and down the street to the Church Caring Center. It had opened and it turned out they did have shoes they could have, along with socks and sweaters for both of them. Cerise had been crying about the lady in the gallery. She asked her mom, “Why was that lady so mean? She really scared me. You should have told her the whole story, then maybe she wouldn’t have been so mean.”
Emily responded, “You know Cerise, sometimes it really doesn’t matter if someone knows the whole story. They need to judge and so they will judge, no matter what. You and I know the story and we both know why we were at the homeless shelter. We know what we are doing and why. That is what matters.”
Beatrice told the story of the homeless mother and daughter to five different friends over the course of the day. Four of the friends agreed that the homeless mother was bad and that the daughter should be taken from her and put in protective custody. The fifth friend, a wealthy gallery patron named Jill, told Beatrice she thought she had treated them badly. She said what they needed was kindness, not judgment.
Beatrice was rather taken aback by this and asked why she was making such a big deal about it. Jill said, “I once was homeless when I was quite young and people treated me the same way. I already knew all the negative things about myself and how I had ended up homeless, I didn’t need other people telling me the same thing. What I needed was help and understanding. Luckily for me I got that help, and ironically it was actually from a gallery dealer in Los Angeles. Without his understanding and help I never would have gotten out of the jam I was in.”
Chapter Three
A few weeks later Emily and Cerise were in the same gallery neighborhood again. This time they had shoes on. Emily had gotten a part-time job at a coffee shop about a block from the gallery. The coffee shop owner had said Cerise could stay there as long as she didn’t bother her mother too much while she was on duty. It would only be for a few more weeks then school would start again for the fall and Cerise wouldn’t have to be there during the day. Cerise sat at a little table near the window and drew in the sketchbook they had given her at the Church Caring Center a few weeks before.
Beatrice usually came to the coffee shop around 9:30 am, right before she went to open the gallery. This day she saw a little girl through the window as she approached. As she walked past she bent down, pointed at the drawing and said, “You are a very good artist. Keep at it and one day you might be famous, who knows!” Cerise looked up and recognized the woman as the mean person from a few weeks prior, but Beatrice did not recognize Cerise. But when she came to the counter she most definitely did recognize Cerise’s mother, Emily. She remembered the green eyes, the strong eyeliner and the red hair up in a bun. Emily recognized Beatrice as well. They stared at each other for a moment. Beatrice could feel her cheeks flushing with blood.
Emily asked, “Hello, what may I get for you today?”
Beatrice answered, “Um…I will have…um….I will have a large Cafe Mocha please.”
Emily said, “Will that be all?”
Beatrice answered, “Yes. Um….you were in my gallery last week, right?”
Emily responded, “Yes. My daughter used the bathroom. Thank you for allowing that.”
Beatrice said, “Um….yes. No problem. Anytime.” She felt particularly stupid after saying that.
Emily said. “Your drink will be ready over to the left. It should be just a minute.”
Beatrice moved over to the counter at the left. She picked up her drink and was on her way out when she returned to Emily. She said, “I am sorry for the attitude I had that day. It was mean and judgmental and I regret it.”
Beatrice looked up from ringing something up in the cash register. “I appreciate that. We are used to that attitude, you aren’t alone. But you are the only person who’s ever apologized to me for it. That means a lot. Thank you.”
Beatrice asked, “Where is your daughter?”
Emily pointed to the front and said, “You already talked to her, she is the little girl at the window over there.”
Beatrice Asked Emily her name and the name of her daughter. She shook Emily’s hand, said her apology again and walked over the Cerise. She kneeled down to Cerise’s level, forgetting that her skirt was short and was probably exposing too much, and said, “Cerise, my name is Beatrice. I own the gallery that you came into last week to go to the bathroom. I remember being mean to your mother and you and I should not have been like that. I wanted to come over and apologize to you. Will you forgive me?”
Cerise said, “Yes, I will. Mom says when someone treats us mean it usually means something is hurting inside them and that we should hope that hurt goes away for them instead of us feeling hurt about what they said.”
Beatrice stared at Cerise. She couldn’t talk for a moment. Finally, as tears started to gather in her eyes, said, “Yes, your mother is a very wise woman. She is right. It is much more about my hurt than anything about you. Once again, I am sorry and I hope you won’t hold it against me.”
Cerise said, “I won’t, I promise. By the way, thank you for saying you liked my drawing when you came in. That made me happy. I am not very good yet but I like drawing so I do it anyway.”
Beatrice said, “You are better than you think you are, I can tell you that much.”
Beatrice left, crying.
Chapter Four
Two days later Beatrice went back in the coffee shop and saw Cerise and Emily again. She asked Emily if it would be ok if some days Cerise spent her time at the gallery instead of the coffee shop. Emily said it was ok with her if it was ok with Cerise. Beatrice went over to Cerise and asked, “Cerise, I had an idea last night. Would you be willing to spend a bit of your time during the day at my gallery instead of here? You can still draw of course. But you can do other things there too, maybe even help me with some stuff. And we do have a cool cat that needs some company.”
Cerise looked over at her mother who nodded her ok. Cerise smiled and said, “Yes, that might be fun.”
Cerise spent an hour or so each day at the gallery for the remainder of the summer. She drew a lot, often drawing the cat sleeping in the sun. She also learned how to hammer a nail, cut a mat, wire a frame and paint pedestals. As the end of summer approached Beatrice’s assistant announced she was pregnant and going to be moving the the suburbs with her husband, who was taking a job in Greenwich.
Beatrice offered the assistant job to Emily, who accepted.
Epilogue
That was five years ago. Beatrice has since opened a second gallery uptown. Emily is in charge of the downtown gallery and is making quite a name for herself as an astute judge of talent and an excellent curator. Cerise is just entering high school and has decided to major in art when she goes to college.
Beatrice keeps in contact with her friend Jill, who is also great friends with Emily and Cerise. Beatrice has no idea what ever happened to her other four friends.
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Jan 6, 2015 | 'In The Gallery', Marty Coleman |
Prologue
Millicent had never been the subject of a short story before. She had been mentioned in a weird poem her 10th grade boyfriend had written for her when he was high on pot, but never a short story.
Chapter One
Millicent had never been in an art gallery before. She did go into one with her father in Sausalito when she was 11 and stole a pair of earrings, but never as an adult.
Chapter Two
Millicent was hired at the last minute to sub for Berthe, who had come down with Shingles and couldn’t work. She had subbed last minute plenty of times for Sid the alcoholic, but never for Berthe.
Chapter Three
Millicent had never seen a painting of a naked person in person before. She had seen pictures years ago in some dirty magazines her brother had, but never a painting.
Chapter Four
Millicent had never worn stripes and polka dots together to work before. She had worn stripes and paisley together once to her husband’s Christmas office party where she drank too much Vodka, but never stripes and polka dots.
Chapter Five
Millicent had never taken the N Judah trolley to the end of the line before. She had taken the M Owl all the way to the end before, when she was depressed about her oldest son being caught putting on her makeup, but never the N Judah.
Chapter Six
Millicent had never had to actually interpret the word ‘breast’ in public before. She had to sign ‘butt’ plenty of times, but never the word ‘breast’.
Chapter Seven
Millicent had never eaten Sushi before but that is where the class went after the gallery. She had eaten raw chicken once and got sick, but never fish.
Chapter Eight
Millicent had never worn salmon colored eyeshadow before but got some for Christmas and decided to try it. She had worn peach colored eyeshadow before, but never salmon.
Chapter Nine
Millicent had never contemplated divorce before but she saw her husband with a big busted blonde in a Starbucks across the street from the gallery as they walked in. She had contemplated killing him before, but never divorce.
Epilogue
Millicent divorced her husband, wore salmon colored eyeshadow every day, gave her peach colored eyeshadow to her son, got a fish tank, wore stripes and polka dots together often and started painting for fun. Her best friend Geraldo even posed for her naked once.
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Dec 22, 2014 | 'In The Gallery', Marty Coleman |
Chapter One
Rita got the invitation the same day her date stood her up (she hadn’t had a successful second date in 2 years) so she decided to go to the opening alone. She knew the show would have nudes in it, but didn’t realize every single painting was of a blue, slack-shouldered loser with a big dick. This depressed her until she finally broke out laughing and said to the young woman standing next to her, “This show is ‘truth’ – men are just big dicks.” The both laughed and became friends. They left the gallery disillusioned and went to see a movie about a female army ranger who was stuck in the mountains and had to eat her fellow male army ranger who died to survive. That made them feel better.
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Dec 17, 2014 | 'In The Gallery', Marty Coleman |
Prologue
She didn’t realize today would be the most important day of her life.
Chapter One
The Waitress was waiting tables, depressed and annoyed at having been in the city for months and still not having made any friends or making any progress in her hoped for career as an actress. Her first table wasn’t making her feel any better. The man at the table had stopped her the moment she set down his coffee. He took hold of her hand and stared at it. He said, “You have a beautiful hand” then let go of it and thanked her for the coffee. She rolled her eyes as she walked away. “What a loser.” she mumbled.
For the rest of the breakfast he was deep in conversation with his breakfast companion, an elderly woman. The Waitress guessed she was at least 50 years older than he was. At first she thought it was probably his Grandmother, but as she heard snippets of the conversation she got the impression it was a business meeting. They talked a lot about costs, delivery dates and clients.
When she took the check from the artist at the end of the meal one of the dollar bills fell on the table. He picked it up and gave it to her. When she took it he said loudly, “WAIT!” Once again he took hold of her hand, this time with the dollar bill still in it. He looked up at her and said, “Would you consider modeling for me?”
She gave a deep sigh, rolled her eyes and looked at him with a smirk. “I am a legit artist, really!” he said with a laugh.
The elderly woman nodded her head and said, “He is right, you know. I am his art dealer, have been for 10 years. You can bring a friend or escort to his studio if that would make you comfortable. And don’t worry, he will pay you very well.”
The waitress looked at him and said. “Do I have to be naked?”
He laughed again. “No. Well, your hand does. I want to do a sculpture using your hand holding a dollar bill.”
She popped out her hip, put her hand on it and smirked again as she said, “My hand? Really? Not my surpassing feminine beauty? I am not sure what to think of that.”
Everyone laughed. He said, “Well, how about this. I will do a drawing of your surpassing beauty AND pay you if you will model your hand for me.”
She stared at him a moment then looked over at the elderly lady. The lady said, “You really should do it, you know. He’s a great guy and artist, plays good music in the studio and always has good coffee brewing.”
“OK. Done deal. I’ve always wanted to be a hand model!” Sara said.
The artist brought out an old-fashioned appointment book, flipped the pages and landed on a Saturday about 2 weeks away. He asked, pointing to the page, “Would this be ok? That Saturday, maybe at about 10 am?
She brought out her iPhone, checked the date and said, “Looks good to me. See you then.”
He got up to leave with his dining companion and the waitress said. “Do you want to know my name? And maybe we should exchange phone numbers? And I will need the address of your studio as well”
He looked at her with a silly grin and said. “Sorry, I always forget that part. Thanks for reminding me. My name is Art Mann and this is my dealer, Vivian DeWhite. What is yours?”
She raised one eyebrow. “Your name is Art Mann? Really? Come on.”
He looked at her, put up two fingers side by side and said, “Scouts honor. That’s my given name.”
She shook her head with a slight grin. “This is just too strange.” she said under her breath. “My name is Sara. Sara Montgomery. Nice to meet you Mr. Mann!”
She got his number and the address and said her goodbyes. As he went out the door he turned around and said with a laugh, “Be careful with that hand for the next two weeks. No ditch digging or other manual labor, ok?”
She gave him the thumbs up with her soon to be immortalized hand and went on to finish her shift, chuckling about the encounter for most of the rest of the day.
_______________________
Chapter Two
Sara spent the morning of her modeling debut trying to figure out what and how she should prepare. She hadn’t dug any ditches and she had moisturized each day. She did do her nails the night before. And since it was winter she did have warm gloves for the trip to the studio. Her hands were set.
He said he was going to draw her ‘surpassing beauty’ so she had also done her hair up nice, plucked her eyebrows and bought new mascara that didn’t clump. She wore a simple green leotard type top, not too much cleavage but enough to maybe impress just a little. She tried it with and without her bra and even though she thought of herself as still being pretty uplifting in that category, she was worried the studio might be cold and her perky girls would be way too obvious. She erred on the side of caution and wore a bra. She wore her go-to jeans and ankle high boots. He didn’t seem like a perfume type guy so she didn’t put any on.
________________________
Chapter Three
Just as she was about to ring the buzzer at the apartment building when she was startled by the door opening and a very good looking man burstimg out. He smiled at her as he bounded down the stoop and said in what sounded like a German accent, “You must be the hand model. You can go right up, he’s expecting you. It’s on the 3rd floor.” He was 10 steps down the street by the time she got out a “Thanks.” and turned back towards the door. She was pretty sure he hadn’t heard her.
She could have gone without the bra. He had a wood-fired stove in the middle and, in spite of the 2 story wall of windows on 2 sides bringing in incredible winter light, the place was toasty warm. She was very nervous coming in but he welcomed her in with a big smile and a quick hug and that put her at ease. He offered her coffee or tea and had orange scones on a red plate waiting for her. She chose the supposedly great coffee and took a scone.
They made small talk for a few minutes, mostly about the cold front that had just moved in and if there would be more snow. He then jumped up, took her hand and said, “Come on, let me show you my space!”
He had a large array of canvases leaning up against the walls to the left, facing away from her. She was dying to know what they were of but he didn’t offer to turn them around. There were some drawings tacked up on the partition on the right, between the studio and what she figured was the kitchen and living area; portraits, body parts and full nudes in what she thought was probably charcoal. Among the drawings was a drawing of an ear with a big gaudy earring hanging from it, a portrait of a woman with a patch over one eye and a fully body nude of a man who she thought looked like the guy she saw bound out of the building. The drawing was complete except for his genitals. There was just a blank space where they would have been.
There were also three stands with clay sculptures on them against the windows. There was a nose with a clothes pin holding the nostrils closed, a foot in a high heel standing on an unbroken light bulb and a set of very round butt cheeks with a smoking pipe sticking out of it. Each one was about 2 feet tall.
He said that each piece started the same way the one he was going to do of her started. He met them as strangers, liked something about them and asked if they would model for him. She couldn’t help but wonder about the circumstances behind them all, and finally had to say something when they got to the sculpture of the butt cheeks.
She could feel a flush coming to her cheeks as she asked, “So, how exactly did you approach this woman to ask her to model her butt for you?”
He laughed, “I was wondering if you were going to ask! So many people see these pieces and know that they are all of strangers and never ask. I would certainly ask if I heard that story!” He pointed to the butt cheeks and said, “This is actually one of the simplest of explanations. She works out at the gym I go to. She is pretty much a superstar there and loves being the center of attention. I did exactly what I did with you, minus the ‘touching the body part’ part of course. I just told her she had amazing glutes and asked if she would model them for me. She did look at me a bit funny but I explained myself and she agreed. That is all there is too it.”
“Did she know you were going to stick a pipe up her butt?” she asked with a smile on face.
He bowed his head a bit and responded, “uh…No, she didn’t know that. I didn’t even know that until I was pretty much done. But, she’s seen it since and thinks it ‘gnarly cool’ to quote her.”
She looked at him and said, “Now I am nervous! What are you going to do or add to my hand after you are done sculpting it? Should I be worried.”
He laughed, “No, I already know what is going in your hand. It’s going to be the one dollar bill you had in your hand at the restaurant when I asked you.”
“Really?” she asked. “Promise? You promise nothing perverse or x-rated will be in my hand? I don’t want to bring my mom and dad to some opening and find my hand has a dildo or something in it!”
“No, sorry.” he said. “Just a boring old dollar bill, I promise.”
_______________________
Chapter Four
The actual modeling session went by quickly and without much excitement. He posed her arm so her elbow was on a table and her hand was facing straight up. At first her hand was empty but with her fingers together as if she was holding a dollar bill in them. He took photos from every conceivable angle, with and without a flash. He had her hold a dollar bill and he did the same set of photos all over again. He then sat very close in front of her and drew her hand a number of times. He did quick 30 second drawings that looked like scribbles to her and then worked his way up to a drawing that took almost an hour. She got a break after the short drawings and that was a very good thing because the coffee (which was very good) had gone through her and she was about to pee in her pants if he hadn’t stopped drawing right then.
She pretty much ran to the bathroom, barely getting her pants down before she let go. She hung her head down while she went, eyes closed in relief. It wasn’t until she looked up to find the toilet paper that she realized there was a huge drawing of a orangutan’s face staring right at her from the back of the bathroom door. She almost screamed when she saw it. She muttered to herself as she washed her hands, “At least it wasn’t butt cheeks”
The hour long pose was much harder than she imagined. Her fingers got tired and cramped and then seemed to fall asleep. She had to take a break and shake out her hand to get blood flowing back to it. But soon enough it was over. He exclaimed, “Finito! at least for now.” She got up, stretched a bit and asked if she could take a look at his drawing. He gestured to it sitting on his drawing bench and said, “Feel free. I will use it, along with the photos, as a basis for the sculpture. I expect it will take me a few months to finish it. I am going to have a show in the fall at Vivian’s Gallery and I am hopeful it will be in the show. I will let you know. “
After a break for more coffee and one last scone he said, “Ok, I promised you a drawing of your surpassing beauty so let’s get to it.” He brought her over to his drawing table and had her sit across from her. He told her to just look right over his head out the windows behind him. He said her eyes could go wherever she wanted as long as her head stayed in the same position. As he drew she scanned the apartment building across the street. There was one window with the curtains open where a woman was pacing back and forth talking on the phone. She imagined what that conversation was all about, creating a story in her head about the woman and her lover having an argument about how badly he behaved at her company Christmas party the night before. Before the drawing was over she had decided the woman really needed to break up with the guy and see a shrink.
Right as she came to that conclusion Art said, “Ok, all done.” He picked up the drawing and turned it around to show her. She had to admit, he had made her look beautiful. Probably the most beautiful she had ever seen herself. And it wasn’t that it was unrealistic, it actually did look just like her and it was beautiful. She really didn’t know what to say but she managed to eek out a “Wow, that is amazing, thank you!”
Art went over to a drawer, slipped the drawing in. Sara looked at him and said, “What, I don’t get the drawing?”
He said, “I said I would draw you, not that I would give you the drawing.”
She stared at him. “Sheesh, what a rip off. I was brought here under false pretenses!” She said with a laugh.
Art said, “I didn’t say I would NEVER give it to you, just not now.”
Sara harrumphed, “Alrighty then. I’ll expect it for Christmas or my birthday.”
And with that, it was time to go. She had about 2 hours to get home, maybe take a nap and get ready for her dinner shift at the restaurant. He led her to the door of his studio and handed her a check as he bid her farewell. It was for $250.00. Not a bad haul for a few hours of sitting around with her hand in the air, she thought.
________________________
Chapter Five
Sara didn’t see Art again until the opening of his show 8 months later. However, In the intervening months Sara’s life changed dramatically. In spite of the hand cramp she loved doing the modeling. She found out from a friend that agencies around the city didn’t just look for face and body models but also for body part models, like hands and feet. She got up her nerve and contacted an agency after seeing photos of hands on their site. Sara had a photographer friend take some photos of her hands in Black and White and submitted them to the agency to be considered.
Within a week she got a call asking her to come in and within a week after that she had her first job hand modeling. It was for a brand of rubber gloves and she was photographed putting the gloves on and off. It wasn’t glamorous and it paid poorly but amazingly within 4 months she was getting enough work as a model to go down to about 3 dinner shifts a week waiting tables. After 3 months she had a premium shoot for jewelry that paid really good money. She got to wear bracelets and rings all day long as they photographed and videotaped her lounging around in a very ritzy apartment on the 76th floor of some building on the upper east side of Manhattan. They had put a very sexy party dress on her and even did her makeup and hair. It wasn’t scripted or rehearsed but at the last minute they asked her say something while looking directly into the camera while slipping a bracelet over her wrist. It was just one line, “It’s not jewelry, it’s art.” and she nailed it the first time around. They had her do it twice more just in case, once smiling as she said it and another time looking off camera.
She had to give the dress and jewelry back of course but her makeup and hair were still done. Even back in her day-to-day clothes she felt like a glamorous movie star. When she went back out onto 5th Avenue pretending to be a movie star. She put her sunglasses on with one deliberate arch of her arm and hand to her face. She pulled her gloves on with an elegant tug. She stopped to look in the windows of the boutiques, striking a deliberately casual pose each time. She went into one of the stores and bought a Burberry scarf. She threw it over her shoulder with a flourish as she left the store. When stopping for coffee she kept her sunglasses on inside the coffee shop. She said, “Thank you, dear” to the barista.
______________________
Chapter Six
On the evening of Art’s opening Sara was ecstatic. She had the date circled on her calendar for over a month. She had even rejected a modeling gig that afternoon because she knew the photographer was notoriously flaky and would take about 3 hours longer than he said he would to get the project done. He also had tried to hit on her last time they worked together and she wasn’t the least bit interested. She had her hair and makeup done in that same glamorous style she had at her first big jewelry shoot. She bought a low cut green dress that she felt showed off her new, thinner figure, to best advantage. This time she wore perfume.
She went to the opening alone. She knew her mother would freak out if there were any ‘naked’ pieces so she thought it would be better to bring her to the gallery when it was empty instead of on opening night. She could have brought her younger brother but once again he would have giggled and made fun of anything remotely skin oriented. She had one friend, a model she had met recently, who was going to go with her but she had come down with Bronchitis and was coughing incessantly. It was better to just enjoy a solo night out and see who she might meet at the show than force some friend who wasn’t going to be into it to go with her.
When she arrived the gallery was filled with people who she did not know. She immediately started to think it might have been a bad idea to come alone when Vivian DeWight approached her with arms outstretched and a big smile. She greeted Sara and gave her a double kiss, not air kisses but actual kisses, on both cheeks. Sara liked that, her lips were warm and she could smell a great perfume on her.
Vivian quickly turned away and pulled a young man over. “Sara, this is Hans. He’s from Germany, just moved to New York about a year ago. He is also one of Art’s models. As a matter of fact, he is in a painting very close to the sculpture of your hand!”
Hans shook her hand politely. She could tell he didn’t recognize her. But she recognized him as the guy leaving Art’s studio as she was arriving that day. She remembered his height and his very cool floppy knit cap. He gave her a bit of a thrill as he pulled his hand away from her, dragging his fingers ever so slightly across her palm as he did so. She was a terrible guesser of height and age but she thought he was at least 6 feet tall and maybe 30 years old. She really had no idea but she guessed in her head all the same.
Sara said, “He doesn’t remember, but we met that day at the studio. Well, almost met. He came out in a rush as I went in. He let me in and yelled, “Third floor!” as he ran down the steps.”
Hans looked at her intently and said, “You know, now that I look at you, I do remember. You had on green that day as well, right?”
Sara was impressed. To remember what color she was wearing 8 months later? That showed some serious attention to detail she thought. She said, “Yes, I was. Some sort of brownie points are due for remembering that!”
“I have a thing about color, I pay way too much attention to it!” he said with a smile.
Sara responded, “Well, it worked on your behalf tonight, that is for sure.”
Vivian said, “Well, you two seem to be getting along famously. I am going to go check if the wine has run out yet. You two enjoy!” and off she went.
There was a bit of an awkward silence after Vivian left. Then Hans leaned forward and said, “By the way, your hand looks and feels more beautiful than the sculpture of it.”
Sara felt her neck warm up, a sign she was about to blush. “Thank you. Wait, how do you know my hand feels better than the sculpture?” she said with a laugh.
“Well, don’t tell anyone but I always find a way to touch sculptures, even if there is a sign saying ‘Don’t Touch’.”
Sara raised an eyebrow and said in mock indignation, “So you went and fondled my hand before you even knew me? Aren’t you the rude sort!”
Hans laughed, “Yes, I am afraid I am a bit of a rule breaker that way. So sorry, but I couldn’t resist. It really is a beautiful sculpture of a beautiful hand!”
Sara responded, “Well, I just arrived and haven’t even seen my allegedly beautiful immortalized hand yet. Are you going to show me where it is or do I have to search it out myself?”
Hans grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s go, it’s in the back gallery. It’s where all the best pieces are!”
__________________________
Chapter 7
Twice, as they moved through the crowd, they were stopped by people greeting Hans and telling him they loved the painting he was in. One slightly tipsy woman in a blue beret said, “That painting has me wanting to see more!” Sara was puzzled, and after they moved away from the woman, said to Hans, “She wants to see more? There’s like 25 more paintings within 100 feet of her, what is she talking about?”
Hans laughed and said, “Oh, yea that. I’ve already gotten a comment like that 3 times tonight. You’ll see what she is talking about when you see the painting. But just remember, the artist is a master of hyperbole and symbolism, not realism.” She had no clue what he meant by that.
They both collected a champagne flute and plate of hors d’oeuvres by the time they got to the back gallery. Sara was putting a brownie shaped like a starfish in her mouth when she finally saw her piece. It was what she expected and then again it was nothing like she expected. It did look like her hand, the shape of the fingers, the size of the fingernails, even the longer than usual life line on her palm, were all exact. Her hand also had a dollar bill in it, just like Art said it would have. But she didn’t expect her hand to be green nor the dollar bill to be purple. But not expecting that didn’t mean she didn’t like it. She thought it was very cool. She liked the colors being different. It made the piece familiar and new at the same time. She put down her plate and glass and brought out the price list they had at the gallery door. There was a photo of her piece on the front and a list of all the pieces in the show inside. She looked up her piece and the brownie almost fell out of her mouth. It was listed for $25,000.00!
She leaned over to Hans and whispered, “If I knew the piece would be that expensive I would have asked for more money to model!”
Hans responded, “Tell me about it! The painting I am in is priced at $60,000.00!”
She looked at him with her mouth open. “Really? Wow, I want to see it, where is it?”
He chuckled, “You are standing right in front of it. It’s right behind your piece, over there, on the left.”
She looked up and saw a painting at least 8 feet tall. It was of a sparse landscape with a nude man standing in the middle of it. There was a road leading from the man’s feet back to a volcano in the distance. He was looking down with sloped shoulders. He had on his cool knitted hat. His eyes were sad and he looked depressed. He also had a very large penis hanging straight down.
Sara pointed to the penis and laughed, “Don’t tell me that is what Art saw on you that he wanted to paint!”
Hans responded dead pan with a straight face, “Yep.”
Sara stiffened and stopped breathing. Nobody has a penis that big she thought. She was trying to figure out what to do next when Hans slapped her on the back.
“JUST JOKING! He actually liked my cap and that is what got his attention. He asked to paint me when we met at a coffee shop one morning.” Hans said through his laughter.
Sara breathed again and laughed as well. “Ah, so that’s not realistic?”
Hans said, “Well I didn’t say that.”
Sara was trying to figure out how to change the topic when Hans said, “But sorry to disappoint, it’s not. I didn’t even pose nude for him. I had on underwear on. He told me the painting would eventually be a nude and I told him I was cool with it but he said I didn’t need to pose nude, which was a relief. I am a bit too modest for that. Ironically, now everyone thinks I did pose nude and that I have this gigantic appendage. It’s really pretty funny to me.”
Sara laughed and said, “This has got to be the strangest conversation and evening I have had in a long, long time!”
Hans laughed as well as he responded, “You and me both.”
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Chapter Eight
After that funny episode Hans and Sara walked around the gallery together. They had a hilarious time talking about the art, wondering if they would ever buy any of the pieces if they had the money. They decided they would. Hans said he would buy her hand sculpture and put it on his dresser to hold his watch. After explaining her mother would disown her if she had a big painting of a naked guy in her apartment, Sara said she the most she could get away with would be to buy the sculpture of the big butt with the pipe coming out of it so she would have something to hang her scarves on. Her mom would likely have a heart attack when she saw it, she said. They decided Art would never let them buy the pieces if they knew what they would be used for. They also came to the conclusion that they should form an artist’s model union and demand more money.
After about an hour of walking around the show Hans asked Sara if she would like to go get a bite to eat. They said their goodbyes to Art and Vivian, thanking them for including them in the show. It was a warm evening and they walked across town a few blocks to the West Village where Hans said he knew of a great place that served killer Pho noodles. Sara had never had Pho noodles but was game for it.
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Epilogue
Sara and Hans dated for 2 years before Hans asked her to marry him. They were married in Vivian’s gallery and Art was in attendance. His wedding gift was two drawings, the portrait of Sara he had done and the drawing of Hans that had been on his studio wall when Sara modeled. Art had never finished the drawing, the genitals were still missing. Hans and Sara had both pieces up in their living room and loved to tell the story of how they met when people would ask about the drawings.
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The End
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by Marty Coleman | Dec 3, 2014 | 'In The Gallery' |
Prologue
She was born in 1975 in Tupelo, Mississippi but moved with her family to Paris, France at the age of 2. She had been married but her American husband had been killed in the Iraq War. She was an accountant and liked to do crafts. She had one son.
Chapter One
The mom brought her son to see the museum exhibition of the famous artist’s work. She had been a muse for the artist, posing for a giant sculpture of her head, as well as a number of paintings. The artist had painted 10 paintings of her but only two were in the show. Both were big paintings of her jumping. In one, she was jumping over a fence to escape a bear. In the other she was jumping into a pool to escape a fire.
Chapter Two
After they saw the paintings they went into the gallery that had the giant sculpture. She explained to her son that she had to sit still for a whole hour, then would get a 5 minute break, then would have to sit again for another hour and how this went on for about 4 hours each day for a month. The son thought that would be really boring.
Chapter Three
The son also thought the sculpture was boring because it was just his mom, only really big. The son got excited though when two young women came up to his mom and asked her if she was the model. They asked all sorts of questions about the artist and wondered if the artist was looking for models because they thought it would be cool to pose for a famous artist. The mom said the artist was always looking for models and to just email the artist through the artist’s website. The son pointed to the giant sculpture and said, “My mom had to sit still for like forever and barely ever got to go pee.” The two women laughed and patted him on the head.
Chapter Four
They looked at the other paintings in the exhibition and the son asked all sorts of questions. His mom answered them all as best she could. He told her he thought the paintings of her jumping to escape things were the best in the whole show and asked if they could go back into that other gallery to see those paintings again. He also said the painting of the man with the blue penis was really funny because no one really has a blue one.
Chapter Five
After they left the museum they went for ice cream as it was a very hot day. The son told the mom she was prettier than the art she was in. The mom smiled and was happy.
Epilogue
What is the gender of the artist?
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Drawing and short story by Marty Coleman
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by Marty Coleman | Nov 21, 2014 | Illustrated Short Stories
Prologue
The Belly Dancer was glad the final pose in her debut as a figure model for the art class was laying down. She was also glad she could close her eyes because then she wouldn’t have to look at the hideously scary painting of a wolf that was on the wall behind her.
At the last minute she decided to get her scimitar and use it as a prop in the pose. She knew it would create drama, adding an exotic and dangerous element to her character. While she knew it was unlikely the artists drawing her would understand, when she danced she became Zaira, The Rose Princess of the Tribe. She changed from being the dutiful daughter, the loyal office worker, and the meek sister into the strong and courageous Princess.
Chapter One
The room was warm and the pose was easy. Soon she had closed her eyes and fallen into a dreaming sleep. She dreamt she was alone in the hot desert of North Africa. She was out searching for her little brother, who had not returned after a day in which he had supposedly gone out to catch lizards in the dunes with friends. It was now night under a full moon and the family had spread out across the desert to find him. She was given the direction due south, towards the small group of hills that made the southern border of their tribe’s land. She was about a mile from their home when she heard the howls.
Chapter Two
Howling was not uncommon in her land but it was always far away. This time it was very close. She walked faster along a line of date trees that were fed by a small spring to the west. She knew the trees would lead to the edge of the hills and that would likely be where her brother would go if he were stuck in the desert at night. It was also where the howling had come from. The moon had partially disappeared behind the hills by the time she reached their start. She could see shadows cast by jagged rock outcroppings. It made for a disconcerting scene.
Chapter Three
Just as she was about to call her brother’s name she heard a rustling behind her. She turned to see another large shadow, also appearing to be of jagged rocks. Then the shadow moved. Then the shadow snarled. She was able to see now that it was a large wolf, bristling hair high up on it’s neck and back. It’s head was lowered and it started pacing back and forth in front of her. Every turn it made it took a step closer as well. She was able to see as it got closer that it’s mouth was dripping something. When it turned again and came another step closer she could see it was blood.
Chapter Four
She had been taught to hunt by her father, a rarity among the women of her tribe. But he had told her that the hunted doesn’t care of you are a woman or a man. If they sense fear they will attack. He wanted everyone in his family to be able to protect themselves and anyone else in the family, no matter what they were born as. She was thankful for her upbringing even when it meant she was teased by the boys and girls in her tribe.
Chapter Five
She slowly put her left hand over her head and reached behind to her back. She drew out her scimitar from its sheath and brought it to the front. With her right hand she drew out the knife she had in her belt. The wolf sensed his prey getting ready to defend itself and attacked swiftly. He ran directly at her, a distance of about 20 feet. It took no more than 3 leaps before he was airborne with his teeth bared, aiming for her neck. She was able to fall to her left as he passed over. As he went by she thrust upward with her knife, piercing his chest on the right side. He collapsed as he hit the ground. A second later he was back up. He turned, exhaling and coughing. She knew she had hit his lungs. She knew she had but a moment to do what she knew was next. Instead of waiting for him to attack she ran towards his wounded right side. He was not able to turn quickly in that direction and before he could get around to face her she had struck a blow on his neck with her sword. He fell to the ground, his spinal cord cut.
Chapter Six
She didn’t have to take a second look at her foe. She knew he was dead. She turned back to her task, calling her brother’s name while running around the nearest rocky rise to see if he was behind it. She was worried that the blood on the wolf’s mouth had been that of her brother. She was prepared to see her brother dead and mangled somewhere close by. When she came around the rocks she did indeed see a mangled and bloody body. But it was not of her brother but of a young lamb. She called again as she walked deeper among the rocks. A few moments later she heard his faint voice responding. The voice was above her. She looked up and saw her brother standing on a single pillar of rock, no wider than he was.
Chapter Seven
Zaira returned to her family’s home with her brother about 3 hours after she had left. They were welcomed back with love and tears. She told the story of her search, the fight with the wolf and how her brother was smart enough to escape the wolf by climbing up a high and precarious set of rocks that the wolf could not climb. The family was proud of Zaira and told the story for many generations thereafter.
Epilogue
Zaira woke with a start when the drawing monitor called ‘time’s up, pose is over.’ When she opened her eyes the first thing she saw was the painting of the wolf on the wall. She laughed at the wolf and told the assembled artists, “I just killed that wolf in my dream!” They all applauded and thanked her for her heroic deed.
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Drawing and story by Marty Coleman
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by Marty Coleman | Oct 21, 2014 | Halloween, Illustrated Short Stories, Photographic Sunday, Photography |
The Super Hero
Earlier during my cemetery walkabout, right as the sun went down, I happened upon a lone superhero starting her overnight vigil overlooking the city. She was strong and disciplined. I asked her how she got to be a superhero. She said she always wanted to be one and found that the local university had it as a major. She graduated in 3 years with a major in SuperHero Studies and a minor in Civil Engineering. Her day job is with the Army Corp of Engineers.
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The Zombie Pirate Queen
During my cemetery visit I also met the Zombie Pirate Queen. She was desperately looking for something more to eat. I pointed her in the direction of downtown, telling her the bar scene was hopping there and she should find someone to her liking. She thanked me and ran off, but not before giving me her business card, telling me to let my wife know she sold Avon on the side and could give her a free makeover.
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The Night Ninja
I was taking a leisurely midnight stroll around the cemetery when I saw Jack and the Night Ninja doing a bit of competitive grave robbing. I told them they could get a lot more work done if they worked cooperatively instead, which they did. In the end they made their deadline and planned to meet later at IHOP for breakfast.
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The Night Ninja skulked around me for a while after she was done grave robbing. She wanted to know why I was taking photographs and if I worked for the NSA. I told her no, but I was lying. I finally got her off my back when I gave her a coupon I had to Ulta and told her they had a 50% off sale on eyeliner.
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Unfortunately for the Night Ninja she never did get to have breakfast at IHOP with Jack. She instead met her demise at the hands of the Corpse bride who, in spite of being all in white, surprised the Night Ninja while she was checking her Snapchat. The Bride had just been left at the alter and hadn’t eaten all day so Night Ninja had an unfortunate end.
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Sally and Jack
I met Sally in a corner of the cemetery where she was waiting for her blind date. She had been set up by her Sorority sister, Drusilla, with her younger brother. She was quite scared of being alone in the cemetery and was happy to know there were others around. When her date, Jack, showed up out of the dark, hand first, she got so scared she peed a little.
Later in the evening I saw Sally and Jack enjoying a romantic moment sitting on a tomb. Jack had a big smile but Sally was worried about finding a bathroom.
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The Lady in Black
When I arrived at the cemetery she was the first person I came across. But she said nothing, she just looked watched me as I passed. Wherever I went, she was nearby, ever silent, ever watching. After the night was over I finally got up the nerve to talk to her. I asked her what she was doing in the cemetery. She stared at me intently, never blinking and said, “I am your eternal witness that these events were real.”
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© 2014 Marty Coleman – All Rights Reserved
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by Marty Coleman | Sep 29, 2014 | Illustrated Short Stories, Marty Coleman |
Prologue
Liz didn’t grow up in the church but she had been attending for many years.
Chapter One
She got the dress from a new online shopping service. She loved it and was excited to wear it to church where she was going to get up on the alter and report about the youth choir.
Chapter Two
As they got out of the car in the church parking lot her husband said, “I just noticed that two of those little donut circle things on your dress look like your nipples. They’re right where they would be.”
Liz gave him the death stare. “WHY ON EARTH would you say that to me right now, even if it is true?” She said. “You know I am going to be completely self-conscious about that now! You can be such an unthinking idiot sometimes.”
Chapter Three
By the time the pastor called her up onto the alter she had already suffered through 20 minutes of panic. As she walked up she saw her four choir friends sitting on the side, waiting to go on and do their quartet devotional. She looked at them looking at her and she knew they saw the same thing as her husband. She turned to face the congregation blushing a deep crimson. There was nothing she could do about it.
Chapter Four
She forgot to tell the congregation what time the youth choir concert was going to be and forgot to explain about the fundraising needed to send the kids to choir camp next summer. She tripped on her way back down the stairs but caught herself before she fell. She sat down next to her husband, who whispered that she did a great job and no worries about the dress, it wasn’t obvious at all. She wanted to kick him in the balls.
Chapter Five
Afterwards, everyone said she did a great job. Many of the women complemented her dress and asked where she got it. Two guys from her husband’s mens group also complemented the dress. She wanted to kick them in the balls too. She dragged her husband out of the Fellowship Hall the second the niceties were over.
Chapter Six
Her husband was in the dog house for the whole week. As a result he missed out on their weekly night for having sex. She told him that he deserved far worse so he better not complain.
Epilogue
In later years Liz said that it was that moment, as odd as it sounds, that changed the direction of her life. She ended up leaving her husband and her church a year later. She moved to Florida with their kids, taking a job as a music teacher at an inner city high school. She started caring much less about what people might be thinking of her and her clothes and as a result was very happy. She ended up having polka dots and circles in almost everything she wore.
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Drawing and story by Marty Coleman
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by Marty Coleman | Jul 30, 2014 | 'In The Gallery' |
The Blue Woman
Prologue
She born in 1977 in rural west Texas. When she was born her lips were blue and her father exclaimed, “Well, HELLO Blue!” and the nickname stuck. Her real name was Trinity Amelia Forsyth. No one ever called her Trinity except for the youth pastor at her church growing up, and he was creepy and did bad things so she didn’t like it.
Chapter One
When Blue was 35 years old she became depressed. She wanted children but her husband’s sperm count was so low (as was his libido) that after 10 years of marriage she was still without children. Her husband didn’t believe in women working outside the home, because that would mean they would likely have a man in authority over her, and the bible said only the husband should be over the wife. She sold makeup and hair products out of her house and made enough money to afford cable TV.
Chapter Two
She had a ladies bible study she went to every Wednesday at 10am. They were reading through the entire old testament, focusing on the characteristics of an obedient woman. It had grown from just 5 ladies to now over 20. She had hoped after the last year’s curriculum of studying the heroic men of the scripture, they would do something more contemporary, maybe a study of how to deal with the stresses of modern life as a Christian. She was more depressed by this not happening than she at first realized.
Chapter Three
One day in the summer of 2013 Blue asked the bible study leader if they could talk after the study was over. She smiled at her and said of course. The leader was the Pastor’s wife. Her name was Millicent but everyone called her Milly. She had perfect skin and always smelled wonderful. Blue had known her for 10 years but had never had any deep conversations with her. She hadn’t had deep conversations with many people because it was very seldom her husband allowed her to be alone with others. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her he said, but that he didn’t trust others. He wanted to make sure no alien or strange ideas were given to her. She once had to go get her tires rotated and had a conversation with a man in the waiting room. She told her husband about the conversation and he got very angry at her, slapping her and telling her how dangerous that was. She was slapped and hit for many reasons over the years.
Chapter Four
While she waited to have the conversation, Milly escorted the rest of the ladies to the front door and said her goodbyes. They all looked at Blue as they went out with an expression of pity that was very familiar to her. She had seen it often over the past 10 years. Mostly at church, but also at the dollar store where she did a lot of her shopping and the hair salon.
Milly came back in the room and sat down in the straight back chair next to Blue. Milly had great posture, always sitting up straight and keeping her chest up. Blue once thought it was her way of showing off her figure without having to show any flesh but then she felt bad thinking Milly would be so shallow and vain like her and decided she was just trained right as a child.
Chapter Five
Blue asked Milly if she had ever been depressed. Milly looked at her through her colored contacts and said, “Yes Blue, I have been depressed. It was when I was 21 and I didn’t have a boyfriend since junior year in high school. I remember being so sad. But my daddy told me to pray for a husband even harder and it would happen. Sure enough it did and once Billy found me and took me as his bride I haven’t been depressed ever since. Of course, having 5 kids and leading all you ladies doesn’t give me any time to be depressed even if I wanted to be! Why do you ask Blue?”
Blue explained to her that she was afraid she would never have children. Milly responded confidently, “You will have children Blue. I just know it. First thing we need to do is pray for that, right now.” Milly led a very fast and adamant prayer pleading with God to give Blue a baby. She even asked that it happen that very night. She then said, “Blue, you need to go home and get your self ready so when your husband comes home he won’t be able to resist you. I bet you anything if you can do that, tonight you are going to make a baby!”
Chapter Six
In the strangest of ways that conversation was the turning point in Blue’s life. While Milly expected Blue to heed her bible study leader’s helpful guidance and go home to get the house clean, get herself showered and pretty for her husband, that is not what happened. What really happened was Blue found herself unexpectedly laughing inside at the absurdity of the whole idea. She knew her husband would never have sex with her, no matter what she did. She knew he hadn’t been able to get or sustain an erection for over 2 years, probably due to his excessive drinking and weight gain. He got much more excited about yelling at her and hitting her than he ever did having sex with her.
Chapter Seven
Instead of going straight home Blue did the one thing she had always been afraid to do growing up in west Texas. She was teased and laughed at for not learning how to do it. After the bible study she drove to the All-Texas Gun Range in the neighboring town and signed up for lessons.
She didn’t tell her husband, and she made sure to always to have all the clothes she wore to the gun range off and in the wash before he came home, just in case there was a gun powder smell on them. She also made sure to shower. She made sure to always go to the Piggly Wiggly supermarket and get some groceries when she went so he wouldn’t question her mileage on her car, which he always checked.
Epilogue
Six months later her husband died in hunting accident when he was accidentally shot by a hunter. The hunter and his friends swore they never saw him and couldn’t imagine how they hit him. But it was found out he did not have his orange vest on for some reason and with his camo outfit on could barely be seen. The hunter was exonerated of any wrong doing but insisted to anyone who would listen that he did not shoot him.
After his death, Blue moved to Louisiana to live and help with an elderly aunt. She started using her given name, Trinity, and got a job at a makeup counter in a department store. She was the number one saleswoman 3 years running. She adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and never got married again.
The End
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Drawing and story by Marty Coleman
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by Marty Coleman | Jul 10, 2014 | Illustrated Short Stories, Marty Coleman |
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Prologue
She moved to Denver and told herself she was going to change things, get out and start living again, even if it was just to go get coffee in the morning.
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Chapter One
The Knitter liked to go to Starbucks to knit. From her chair at the window she would watch for her secret crush to come in, as he did every morning. She first saw him the very first day she moved to Denver. He was wearing a suit that reminded her of her late husband. He ordered a tall cup of straight coffee, no room for cream, and left promptly.
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Chapter Two
She saw him every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for 7 months straight. She worked the afternoon/evening shift on those days and so had time to relax in the mornings. He eventually noticed her always being there and would smile, wave or say good morning to her as he left. He disappeared when summer arrived. The knitter was incredibly sad about this, more so than she expected.
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Chapter Three
When fall arrived so did he. He came in just like clockwork on the first Wednesday after Labor Day. The knitter was very happy. She had dreamt about him more and more while he was absent and she thought that was all that she would have of him. But she had been so sad for so long that she was happy to be dreaming about something, someone other than her husband, whom she had been married to for 20 years before the heart attack killed him. It had been 2 years when she moved to Denver and he still was vivid in her dreams up until that summer.
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Chapter Four
The secret crush smiled broadly when he saw the knitter in her usual seat. For the first time he actually walked over to her and introduced himself. His name was Dave and he worked just down the street as a engineer for an Oil and Gas Company. He had been gone for the summer, assigned to Pakistan for 3 months to help retrofit some old oil fields with new safety equipment. That was his specialty. He ask the knitter her name. He thought Kiki was a very happy name and that it fit her.
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Chapter Five
The next Friday he was already at Starbucks when she arrived, and he was sitting in her seat. He got up and nervously told her he had gotten there early to have time to talk to her. He asked if she liked picnics. She said yes and smiled. He asked if she liked romantic movies. She said yes and smiled even more. He asked if she would like to go see a movie on the lawn at the local park. He would bring the picnic dinner. She said yes and smiled even more. He was smiling broadly as well.
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Chapter Six
They went to the movie and fell in love. She cried when she got home, realizing how lucky she was. He did the same. Four months later they were married.
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Epilogue
She still goes to Starbucks 3 mornings a week to knit. But now they come in and get their coffee together. His office is close enough that he can walk the rest of the way to work and she stays knitting, with a smile on her face.
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The End
Story and drawing by Marty Coleman
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