Work In Progress #3

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Where did January go?

I spent a good part of it helping my dad putting together a website for his church group. Which is why it's been a few weeks since I posted another excerpt. Well, that and I've been playing a lot of Dragon Quest VII Reimagined in my free time. If there's one skill I've kept honed for decades it's procrastinating.

Anyway, here's some more from Book 4 that I've been working on. Rather than write the story in chronological order, I've been bouncing back and forth between segments I've been in the mood to write at the time. I just hope that it'll all make sense when I finally put them all together.

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Will walked two blocks north to get to the Clarke Museum of Art in the center of the arts district. It didn’t take long to spot his fellow Cyan Society members and art classmates standing around a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Even in a crowd of art enthusiasts, they stuck out with their unique fashion.

Raphael, Will’s mentor and leader of the group, called Will over, “Yo Padawan! Over here!” When Will was closer to the group, Topaz greeted Will by taking a photo of him with her Polaroid. Ezra and Velvet weren’t as happy to see Will. Ezra still had no faith in Will’s artistic ability and thought this trip to the museum was a waste of his time. Velvet also wasn’t thrilled to be at this museum, but for other reasons that Will would discover later.

Unlike the others, who had to pay the discounted student admission rate, Will was able to get into the museum for free using his still active Military ID card. After passing through security, who reminded Topaz that flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum, Raphael guided the group.

In the main hallway, fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, putting a spotlight on the paintings mounted on the white walls. The paintings ranged in sizes from tiny to enormous and varied in styles including photorealist, expressionist, abstract, surrealist, and futurist. The only sounds heard were the echoes of footsteps and the soft murmurs of patrons giving their thoughts on the paintings.

Raphael gave a brief description about the paintings. “Every painting here was done by a local, from artists who’ve been at it for decades to people our age.” He stopped in front of a specific oil painting. It was a piece bursting with vivid colors. That’s where he requested, “Check this one out, Will. It was done by someone you know. Will got closer to the painting and read the name of the artist on a bronze plaque underneath: Madelyn Johansen, their art teacher.

Will studied the painting, in particular the vibrant colors used in it. Of all the colors used, it was the different shades of red that commanded most of his attention. For a moment, he wondered if Ms. Johansen was partially to blame for the lack of red paint in the classroom.

After a minute of observation, he hesitantly gave his opinion on the painting. “It’s um… It looks pretty dope.” Although he was fascinated by the painting, those were the only words he could say about it out loud. He was someone who still had so much to learn about art, specifically how to make it. Because of that, he believed he wasn’t in a position to judge anyone else’s work, especially one good enough to be placed in a museum.

With her arms folded and a look of disapproval, Velvet questioned, “That’s all you got to say about it?” She took Will’s critique as an insult to both the art and the artist. Her remark further cemented Will’s belief. She rolled her eyes and continued, “We’re wasting our time here.” Then she walked further down the hall alone. Even if Will had a response, Velvet was too far away to hear it.

Will went back to observing Ms. Johansen’s painting. Topaz snuck in a photo of him. He was so immersed by the painting he didn’t blink from the flash of Topaz’s camera. Raphael put his hand on Will’s left shoulder and gave him some words of encouragement. “I’ve got a feeling. One day, your very own painting’s gonna be on this wall.”

Ezra put his hand on Will’s right shoulder, like the devil to Raphael’s angel. With a cynical smile, he scoffed at Will and gave him some words of discouragement, “And when that day comes, the art world will be doomed forever.”

Ignoring Ezra’s bitter remarks as he always did, Will stepped away from the painting and followed the group further down the main hallway. He moved his head left and right, getting as good of a glimpse of the painting on both sides as he could. He was more impressed with each one, not just with the art itself, but with the effort that went them. The rest of the group would’ve been equally impressed, had they not seen these painting several times before.

The first wing on Raphael’s tour was the Clarke Wing, where Edmund Clarke’s most popular works were on display. A bust of Clarke stood on a pedestal and was sealed within a glass case. The circular wall were decorated by several works from his famous Cyan Period. Taking up most of the wall were framed paintings of the Seven Founders including Clarke himself. While everyone else hung around the entrance, Will walked around the room and dedicated a considerable amount of time for inspecting each painting. He leaned in closer and read the plaques under each of the paintings.

From them, he learned more about Eustace Livingsworth from Massachusetts, who was tasked with charting the new frontier. Captain Richard Perry, of the Continental Army, who accompanied and protected Livingsworth. Tobias Random, the scholar from Maine, who sought and documented knowledge of the new frontier. Saint Juliet, the missionary from Virginia who was ordained by God to spread Christianity outside of the colonies. Addison Taylor, the exiled son from Delaware, who was forced to find his own way westward. Clara Ingram from Pennsylvania, who was falsely accused of witchcraft and fled the colony to escape burning at the stake. And finally, Edmund Clarke himself, a painter from Maryland who grew tired of making religious art and searched for inspiration to paint something new.

In the center of the wing was an isolated rectangular wall. A single painting, gigantic and framed in gold, was the only piece mounted on this wall. The painting was of Fate’s Hill and the oak tree on top of it. Despite being almost 200 years old, the painting was in pristine condition. Having sat atop Fate’s hill numerous times, Will felt drawn to this painting and wanted to fully absorb it.

First, he had to make sure it was okay with the others to spend more time in this wing. By now, he’d spent almost an hour looking at the art in this wing. He turned back and saw that only Raphael was standing in the entranceway now. The others went back to the main hall and did their own thing. Raphael simply told Will, “Take your time.”

Will walked up to the rope barrier to get close to the painting. Before looking at it further, he took a moment to read the plaque underneath the painting to himself. There was no elaborate description of the work. Instead, there was only a quote from Eustace Livingsworth.

Rejoice! For upon this hill, Fate has decreed this land to be our new home. Cast aside our lives from yesteryear. Let us begin anew here and now.

Once again, this is where I started drawing blanks and told myself to move on to another part for now. I wrote more before this, but it included minor spoilers from Book 3.

#writing #excerpts #workinprogress