“I’m doing fine. I think at the moment I’m more concerned with how you’re feeling about things this morning,” Matthew admitted.
He heard Travis take in a long, slow breath. “Well, that was quite the unusual little display last night.”
“Unexpected.”
“Met with mixed reviews. But look. I’m not taking down the paintings. I spoke in haste. What you’re doing is good, and no one has a right to judge you for helping others. It’s actually quite commendable.”
“Thank you, Travis.”
“I think you probably need to make a clear mission. You’re straddling two very different art concepts here. The consumers of those two areas don’t always play well together. Matthew, I’m speaking as a friend here. Your serious work is getting real attention. That position in the marketplace is yours to lose. I have some ideas on how we might spin this in your favor. Let’s talk soon. Maybe we tease about showcasing you and your prodigy together in a show in the future. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”
“Thank you, Travis.”
He watched Skip talking to the teenagers and painting alongside them. They had no idea how celebrated Skip’s work was, and they were all working shoulder-to-shoulder. They’d get a kick out of working with him on this project.
Matthew pulled up an album on his phone. If this didn’t inspire them, nothing would.
“Hey, guys and Cammy, gather over here for a sec.” Matthew waited until they all circled around. “I really appreciate you being on the team. This is going so well, and we’re right on schedule. I bet you didn’t realize that the storm last night made a mess of a few things.”
“Skip was telling us about that,” one of them said.
“I thought you might like to see who you’re working with today,” Matthew said. “A long time ago, he and I were y’all’s age and dreaming of becoming artists. Some people will tell you it can never happen, that you will never make a living doing what you know in your heart is meant to be. It does happen, though.”
Matthew turned his phone around and let the pictures slide through. Mouths dropped wide. Skip’s face reddened, but he loved it too. “Yeah. This guy.”
“You rock,” one of them said.
“How big was that painting?”
Skip’s brows shot up. “Oh, it’s big. Not as big as this mural.”
“But it’s big, right?”
“Ever heard of the fifty-seven rule?” Skip asked.
The kids looked at each other, but no one had heard of it.
“Here’s your one new thing to learn today. The fifty-seven rule is that when you hang a painting in your home, standard room, the center should be fifty-seven inches from the ground. My pictures’ middles are more like eighty inches, which means that rule could not apply. In fact, it wouldn’t fit in your standard house with eight-foot ceilings.”
“Really?” Cammy held her hand up at eye level. “Like there?”
“That’s big. Who buys something that big?” Sam asked, still doing math in his head, trying to figure out just how big Skip’s painting was.
Matthew and Skip exchanged a smile. “That picture is twelve feet tall. Galleries. Hotels. Museums. Resorts. People with really tall ceilings in big houses.”
“Big money,” said Cammy.
They all laughed, but the kids were impressed.
“Okay,” Matthew said, “I just wanted to take a minute and let y’all know a little more about my friend here, and that also means that now you know two artists who can say they know your work ethic and art styles, which you will find quite handy ifyou pursue a career in the art field. Let’s get back to work so we can see this thing come to life.” Matthew clapped his hands, and the kids dispersed.
Skip hung back. “Thanks for that.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for them.”
Skip looked at Matthew, then shifted his gaze back to the building with those teenagers coloring the walls. “You’re never giving up doing these murals, are you?”
“Not in a million years.” And he was at peace with that, whatever it meant.
