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The air grows thick, and I almost gag as I intentionally place my left leg over my right to face Alex.
¨Did you see the hall to the left of us?¨ Simon leans into me.
¨No. Didn’t have time to look around yet. Why?¨
“You have got to see it!” His lips nearly graze my earlobe as he’s speaking awfully close to my ear.
“Well, maybe I’ll take a browse at the break. I think there is one.”
Simon snatches my hand from my leg. He stands up, tugging my hand.
¨I promise I’ll bring her back in one piece.¨ Simon casually says to Alex.
Alex, looking more like Alexander Matani at the moment, responds with a tight grimace. I ease out of my seat as Simon pulls at me with a sense of urgency. He’s clearly excited about showing me whatever’s in the hall left of us.
¨You have to see this.¨ His youthful demeanor keeps the energy safe as I’m alarmed at how hard my heels sound on the sleek hardwood floor.
As we step out of the auction room, he’s still holding my hand. A handful of lingering people watch us slither by. We enter a dark room. Simon switches a light on, exposing the wall-to-wall art. One large unified colorful mural spreads across all four walls of the room. Children, sunshine, balloons, rainbows, school desks, soccer balls, and shiny happy faces.
¨Elmwood Secondary School did this entire room.¨ Simon states.
My head becomes heavy as all the emotions in this art fill my body like I was given a sudden shot. The joy, excitement, and freedom on these walls are almost unbearable to hold.
¨Wow! This is a lot!” I gasp.
¨It was done within three days. I sponsored a retreat here for the youth. They studied, painted, laughed, and played games. It was all you see reflected on these walls and more.¨
¨This is incredible.¨
I walk toward the east wall as it speaks to me the most, featuring a group of diverse girls laughing in a circle. Mouths hang ajar, eyes have mini shimmery stars around them, and the color of the indigo sky is hauntingly beautiful and texturized. I’m almost positive every single child that was in this retreat added their own touch to this sky.
¨If you need something to do while you’re here. You could check out this room for hours.¨
¨Absolutely. What an incredible blessing. So, what are they going to use this room for?¨ I turn to him in question.
Just now realizing how together Simon looks, his glasses are a different kind, more cat-eyed, and his pearl-stoned bow tie looks like it’s worth at least a few thousand euros.
He shoots his blue dagger eyes at me, ¨ It’s a youth rec. During the day, there are folding tables and chairs in this area, an instructor or two, and a variety of youth. They mainly create day-to-day projects they take home with them.¨
¨How awesome is that? Not only were they doing art in the same building where they sold works of art, but the youth had complete ownership of this room. This is the direction youth art needs to go. Youth are people, too. Who the hell are we as adults to act as if they can’t coexist in our spaces. I mean, this is a room just for them, but most places wouldn’t dare to see high school youth lingering around their halls. Am I right?¨
¨You are. You are. This is the work I want to bring to New York. I want your students to feel just as special, if not more. Why can’t their art be featured alongside adults?¨
¨Excuse me.¨ A stern voice spreads throughout the room.
I turn to the door as an employee informs us the auction is about the start, but it feels incredibly hard to leave this room.
¨This has got to be the most heartfelt piece of work I’ve seen while here.¨ I shake my head at the same time I feel Simon’s hand.
¨I understand.¨ He leads me out of the room.
Before we re-enter the auction room delicately, I try removing my hand from his grip. It feels just as rude to do as it feels unusual for him to be holding it. Plus, he’s bantering rather playfully about the looks on the parents of the young artists ´ faces when they saw what their kids created. I beam brightly as I can only imagine. In mid-laughter, Simon instantly drops my hand right after Alexander turns, getting one last eyeful of our connection. If anyone didn’t see us holding hands as suspicious, they certainly did with that motion.
As soon as I sit down, Alexander clears his throat, gripping his brochure with intensity. His thumb is nearly white as it presses into the program’s thick quality. He stares straight ahead as if he’s some stranger.
A man dressed in a snug blue fit stands in front of us. He lifts the gavel with a grin. He hits it a couple times against the padding on the gorgeous mahogany podium, gathering everyone’s attention upon him.
¨Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the British Auction of Knightsbridge. We have a total of two hundred lots this evening. We will get started with the acrylic paintings that you see on page nine of your brochure.¨
