The Unknown Artist - Part 3

Author's Note: If you haven't read part 2, you can find it on Rowan Finley's page!

If you haven't read part 1, you can find it here!

The Unknown Artist Part 3:

Shiloh was startled as she was pulled into the canvas by the hand which was freezing! It was as if the bones of the fingers were each an icicle as they gripped her shoulder pulling her into the canvas from the gallery. It happened so fast that Shiloh was unable to even scream, but could hear the man in the green jacket ask himself aloud, “Wonder where she went?” With a sudden landing, Shiloh scraped to her feet looking around to gather her bearings. There was a low cloud of fog floating ankle high all around, the ground although could not be seen, felt solid like concrete maybe. It was very dark except for the dancing candlelight where she thought she made out the outline of an easel and what looked to be a canvas on its lipped edge. Shiloh was curious and also a little afraid of what or who she might find in this eerie cold and damp place. With each step closer the fog beneath became thinner and eventually dissipated away, and she could see the beautiful mahogany flooring beneath her. She was beginning to wonder if she was in some area behind the gallery walls where the unknown artist had been working all along. As her eyes followed the thin, paint splattered legs of the easel from the floors to the lipped edge she was at first in shock to see a finished piece. It was a large rectangular canvas, sitting vertically like an old painted portrait would be oriented. The canvas was primed with white paint, and then an eerie black splatter was massaged into the center to appear as a dense cloud or fog with little wisps separating from its boundaries a little here and there. Squinting and stepping just a little closer, her head tilting to one side as she leaned forward as if examining a fine detail. Within the painted cloud, she noticed a bright white square, and a light brown shading extending from the bottom as if to form a glimpse of a wall and floor. On the painted wall, she let out a gasp of fright as she recognized the painted piece on the painted wall within, it was today’s piece! Only with the frightening addition of her being grabbed by hand within the piece itself. As if depicting what just actually happened. Shiloh heard footsteps behind her, spinning on her heels. She expected to see someone but became more afraid when she saw no one. “Ah! There’s my muse…” A deep masculine and yet appealing voice spoke as if shattering the silence like a crashing wave.

“Hello? Who…who are you?” Shiloh responded with an unsteady voice,

“Well…that depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“What your answer to my question will be.” The deep voice responded with a hint of obscurity to his tone.

The voice paused as if expecting me to respond, and I wanted to but I was afraid to know what the questions would be, and if I truly even wanted to answer it, so I decided to beat him to the punch. With Shiloh still glancing around, and spinning in circles as if following the encircling steps within the shadows.

“I think it’s only fair if I ask a question first.” Shiloh spoke attempting to sound more confident and brave.

“Ask away my muse.”

“First who are you?”

“I already told you the answer to that, it depends.”

Shiloh’s brows furrowed and she glanced down with a shaky swallow, “I have to keep asking the questions, at least for now…” she thought to herself.

“Well if I can’t know who you are, can you at least tell me where I am?” Shiloh asked curious to know if her thought was correct that she was in some backstage area for this unknown artist.

“You are where creativity begins and ends.” The masculine voice spoke plainly and with a hint of a smirk to his tone.

“Where creativity begins and ends?” Shiloh repeated his answer in her thoughts…trying to unravel the mystery hidden in his cryptic words until it was interrupted by the chuckling of the man.

“What does that mean? ‘Where creativity begins and ends?’” Shiloh piped up, suddenly frustrated and at a loss for words…

“Shiloh…” The voice began. Shiloh startled, blurted “How do you know my name?!”

“Oh I know everything about you. How you moved here recently to New York to begin your life as an underground artist, hoping to end up on gallery walls. How you stumbled across the Half Gallery yesterday. How you were in awe of my work, intrigued and inspired. I even know about this.” The masculine voice declared breaking the line between the shadows and the candlelight.

Finally! I could put a face to the voice. A rather attractive looking man, in his twenties probably emerged holding a canvas in his paint covered hands. As he admired the piece silently, unable to refrain a blushing smile. Shiloh looked him over, in case she needed a description for the police if trouble arised, and if she could find a way out of here. He was dressed in black slacks, his shoes shined like a mirror, his black short sleeve buttoned down shirt full from his muscular frame. His sleeves hugged his biceps perfectly. His jawline crisp, while his neatly styled curls gently hung over his brow. Glistening with gel to keep it just so. His eyes were hazel, with what appeared to reflect a variety of crisp colors, perfect for a painter.

“You’re the unknown artist!” Shiloh whispered aloud and then peeked to his hands still holding a canvas. “Is that my canvas?” She thought to herself.

“What devotion, it’s perfectly beautiful. Cohesive in design…the technique behind each stroke…flawless.” He said in awe and flattery, and then he finally glanced up at me, unable to hold back his smile as he finally passed the canvas to me revealing the piece as he did.

“It was my canvas!” Flattered, Shiloh sheepishly looked down at her feet, unable to hold back her smile. “I’m flattered, honored really…but how did you get this? I submitted to…”

“Oh the man in the green jacket. His name’s Jack by the way. He doesn’t know who I am per se, but let’s just say he and I go way back.” The unknown artist said, his hands folded in front of him like a proper gentleman while he stood confidently admiring my reaction as I held my artwork in my hands.

“So you had a question for me?” Shiloh rose her eyes to him, seemingly content for now that she was not in danger, but yet in some hidden area of this gallery.

“I do. Shiloh, do you recall Jack explaining how the previous artist gets to decide whose work is to be displayed next?”

“Yes?” She replied with a puzzling look.

“Well, as you already discovered, I am the unknown artist Jack told you about, which means I get to decide if you are the next emerging artist here at the Half Gallery.”

Speechless, Shiloh’s jaw dropped just enough to let out a silent gasp as she could barely believe her ears. Could she really be the next artist?! I only made this one piece, and yet here I am…before the very artist who inspired it.

“Before we get into everything, would you walk with me? I’d like to show you something.” There was a sense of command and yet anticipation in his voice as he extended his arm like a proper gentleman. Unable to really muster any words, I was curious although a little weak in the knees from a rising amount of insecurity which I forced down by a facade of confidence. I felt as though I could trust him, at least for now. Taking his arm we walked in step as he began to escort me around the giant room.

“I suppose you’re still wondering where we are?” He asked, peeking downwards at my face with an infectious smile.

“Yes.”

“Let me show you…” He released my arm, stepping in front of us towards a thick black cloth and yanking it with force as it unveiled a massive floor to ceiling window overlooking the bustling street outside! The twinkling glowing lights from apartments and shops, the people whizzing from left to right and right to left just on the other side. “They can’t see us…but we can see them.” The unknown artist said, as if whispering some sort of amusing secret. “How could that be?” Shiloh wondered as she peered through the massive glass and then glanced at the artist who had been admiring her response.

“Welcome to the Half Gallery Studio! It’s a private, secluded apartment for the featured artist to gather inspiration and create endless masterpieces.” Shiloh looked around now that there was more light flooding the room, and saw all of the sketches collaged on the wall as if wallpaper. Beautifully painted pieces collected in corners, some framed and some not. The splattered paint stains along the wooden floor reminded her of her recent messy creation. Looking down at her hand she noticed she still had paint on her arm and hand from before.

“Like all apartments, there’s a bathroom, kitchen, and bedroom too. Help yourself if you need to, I probably should have mentioned that part earlier.” He said with a joking tone, to keep the mood in the air light as he chuckled to himself.

“Don’t overthink it too much, my little muse. There are no boundaries here behind the walls of the gallery. Nor within us as artists. I thought you’d have learned that at least.” He said as if a little confused yet amused by my reaction.

“Sure, artists challenge the boundaries of concepts and perceptions, but this…it defies physics, it defies reality. One second I was inside the gallery, the next I was in some hidden studio apartment from a hand that reached out through a painting?!” Shiloh pondered in a manner of confusion and bewilderment.

“Look, we can talk about the dimensions of reality another time, but for now…you need to hear your options. Your time here is running low, and you must make a decision.” He began.

“Your first choice is that you become the next artist on the Half Gallery walls. You will be me…in a way, your own way of course.” He said with such an appealing tone and sort of twinkling in his eyes. The very thought that I could be the next artist, if I chose to accept, was mind boggling!

“Or, you can simply walk away.” He stated plainly, as if he was hoping I wouldn’t choose that option.

“Walk away?” Shiloh repeated as if she didn’t hear him correctly.

“Yes, you’d simply be just another spectator in the gallery. Like you were before…of course, you wouldn’t be allowed to mention me as that would ruin my obscurity. But…”

“There’s always a but!” Shiloh sighed to herself.

“You should know that if you walk away, so does my sou's journey of “Obscurity." Meaning that I will cease to exist.” He spoke somberly, looking downwards shuffling his feet lightly on the floor. It was the first time I saw him vulnerable, almost as if he was afraid.

Was Shiloh really ready to make it onto the gallery walls? Or should she just simply walk away and pass up the opportunity? And what did he mean by if I walked away, he would cease to exist? It was a cryptic riddle-like statement, and Shiloh was beginning to feel woozy from it all.

Stay tuned for part 4 by Rowan Finley! And if you haven’t read part 1 or 2, the links are at the top!