“That’s a good idea. So what’s his medium?”
“From the e-mail and the basic examples he sent over, it’s mixed media but has a strong painter influence.”
She started to lean against the doorframe, but the ringing of the door chime stopped her. “That should be him. Do you want him out front or back here?”
“It’s Monday morning. Out front should be fine.” Aud kept his coffee cup and followed her.
Standing in the gallery was a tall, stocky man with a large box in his arms. With slicked-back black hair, a stringy goatee, and a rumpled gray suit coat, his initial appearance didn’t impress Aud.
Setting his coffee mug on the counter, Aud walked up to the man. “Hello, I’m Aud Sorenson, owner.”
“Hey, I’m Carl Dunworthy.” He stuck out a graphite and paint-stained hand.
Aud gestured to Heather. “This is my manager, Heather Ramsey. She’s the one who set up your appointment.”
“Hi, Heather.” Carl nodded in her direction.
“Heather tells me you do mixed media.” Aud wanted to get the interview over with and make it to Leo’s house.
“That’s right. I’ve never really found one medium that really talks to me, but when I work with several at one time, I can truly get the look and feel I’m trying for.”
“Why don’t you show me something you’ve done?” Aud gestured to the box under Carl’s arm. The artist hadn’t set it down to shake his hand.
“Oh, sure.” Carl finally put the box on the floor at his feet. “This is some of my more recent stuff. I’ve been super inspired lately. A good friend of mine just got back from Iraq and was telling me about some of the things he’s done and seen. So much of that made me want to go over there, but I could never join the military. I don’t want to expose myself to those people over there. So I opted to express my feeling through my art. All my family think they’re great. Dad hung one of my paintings next to his Confederate flag in his office.” He pulled out an eight-by-ten canvas that was mostly dark paint. Sand was epoxied across the bottom of the image with four copper bullet casings. Red paint dripped from the central figure who held the reins of a dead camel that lay sprawled at its feet.
Aud couldn’t decide if the figure was supposed to be male or female, but its vacant eyes sent a shiver through him. It took him a moment to find the words he needed to try and stay polite about the unpleasant image. “This is very dark. What else do you have?” He set the canvas on the counter, careful not to get it near his coffee.
Carl pulled out another similar-sized canvas. Like the first one, this one was mostly black paint, but there were little foil stars scattered across the top of it. The silver stars dominated the scene, but red stars dripped like blood across the red metal crescent moon. Aud studied the moon for a moment, then realized the tips were slight raised sections that still had a little bit of white on them. The moon had obviously been cut out of a stop sign. He didn’t like the symbolism Carl was trying to display. Over the years he’d had an occasional controversial artist in the gallery, but on the whole he tried to find works that would appeal to a large number of clients. Carl’s work wasn’t doing much for him.
“Another dark piece.” Aud set it next to the first one. “Are any of your works not dark?”
Carl’s bushy eyebrows knit into a single line. “I’m an artist trying to portray the current state of our world. Don’t you like my work?”
“Your ability and style are both very good. I just think this subject matter is a bit dark for me. Most of my clients are looking for work to help lighten up their environment and their lives.” He gestured at the two canvases lying on the counter. “This might make a statement, and it is possible some people would find it appealing, but I don’t think it’s the image I want in Bright Thoughts Gallery. We try and promote peace and light here. In these pieces, all I see is war and darkness. There are other galleries in town where I think your work would be more appreciated.”
“But Bright Thoughts is one of the top galleries in Colorado.” Carl shuffled from foot to foot.
“And you’re just starting out.” Aud reached for his coffee mug. “Carl, have you ever had a gallery opening before?” The warmth from the mug helped push away the coldness the two canvases had started in him.
“No.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “I’m just beginning to put myself out there and let people see what I can do.”
“Tell you what. Heather has your e-mail address. I’m going to get her to put together a list of possible galleries that might be interested. Like I said, your renditions are strong and clean. I just don’t think the subject matter is good for my gallery. Some others will welcome you with open arms. You obviously care about your art very much. That’s important for a starting artist.”