The Unknown Artist - Part 2

Author’s Note:

If you have not read part 1 by Sibley Shamra, then please read it first via the link below:

Shiloh felt a creative rush, as if a waterfall flowed through her soul. Taking another sip of her morning brew, she turned on a HAUSER instrumental playlist. The first song that played was actually her favorite - "HAUSER - Gabriel's Oboe." Music always inspired her to paint.

The day was fresh and young and she was excited to try painting for the day! Her goal was to paint at least one piece every day. It could be small or large, but she had made a goal to paint something every day.

The music lifted her mind into the highest of realms. She pulled out a canvas. Brushing her fingers on the texture of the canvas panel was always something that she found irresistible.

"I just love it every time... never gets old..."

Beginning to mix shades of blues, greens, yellows, and a bit of purple, she thought of her father momentarily. His smile was such a proud smile when he looked at her. He, above any of her family members, had been the one to encourage her to follow her dreams the most.

When he'd said goodbye, the last thing he said to her was,

"I love you. Go paint the whole wide world!"

Like a strike of lightning, the word obscurity flashed into her mind. She remembered the half galley and questioned aloud.

"Now, what can I paint that would go along with this mysterious artist's theme of obscurity?"

Painting intensely for several hours, she finally finished her piece, complete with the date at the bottom painted 𝒩𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 14𝓉𝒽.

A very bold idea had bubbled up inside of her.

"I'm going back to see today's obscurity piece - November 13th!"

Not knowing if they even accepted other artist's work, she knew that she was going to bring it with her to see the half gallery would display it with the other artists work. Typically, she would have been more reserved, but with her new life in New York, it had her feeling extra bold and oddly confident.

She had tried to make the art piece obscure but still maintain some deeper symbolism too. The background of the piece had swirls of colors that appeared like a tornado spinning outward toward the viewer. In the painting there were two floating hands. One hand held the black rose that resembled the rose in the November 12th piece in the gallery. One hand appeared to be chasing the hand holding the flower. The third hand was collecting the broken marble vase that lying in pieces on the ground. Shiloh never held back. She had such a way with paint.

“Embrace the paint!”

Taking her hand, which was covered in paint, she pressed it against her face. Admiring her canvas painting, she also took a moment to admire the paint all over her hands and skin…

Quickly, she got ready to go back to the gallery but then she had a small wave of anxiety. Shaking it off, she told herself,

"No fear… I got this!"

Smiling at her reflection in the mirror, she started her journey to the gallery.

When she arrived, she saw the same man with the green jacket. He raised his eyebrows.

“I knew you’d come back… And what do you have there?”

He questioned as he eyed the back of her canvas piece.

“I was thinking…”

The man interrupted her before she could finish.

“Let me guess you want to display it in the gallery?”

Shiloh blinked.

“Um. Yes…”

“Well, part of the gallery rules are that artists can bring their work but the previous artist gets to choose whose work gets displayed next. Also, come see today’s piece, November 13th! I think it’s going to leave you breathless!”

She walked further into the gallery and sure enough the next piece was even more intriguing than the last few that she had seen. This time it was a single hand that was insanely realistic. It was reaching.

Shiloh shivered.

“It feels as if the hand is about to snatch me up!”

The man nodded.

“Stay as long as you like. The rest of today other artists will bring their work in hopes of the ‘obscurity artist’ selecting theirs to display next to his. How did you know to come prepared?”

He tried peeking at her canvas not-so-discreetly.

“Guess I just had a wild intuition…”

She shrugged and handed him her canvas piece. Not waiting to see his response, she started to leave. Before she could leave, the reaching hand from the obscurity piece extended out and pulled her through the canvas.

~~~~~~~

Author’s Note:

To read part 3, which will be written by Sibley Shamra.