Some say that Turner found pleasure in these opposites and believed that in painting them, his shame was lifted. Maybe. But with Turner, a painting was not something a viewer just glanced at. Anyone who stared into that darkness and light had questions, questions that could only be answered from inside their soul, questions that were perhaps different for each person.
Timothy smiled and shook his head. “It puzzles me how you are so drawn to Turner’s melancholy. You are not like that, I have seen no darkness inside you.”
I laughed quietly. “Perhaps seeing so much chaos in his pictures jerks me out of the shadows. All of my loved ones have left me. My two friends took off for other places. I suppose I have a lot to be depressed over, but I won’t wallow in that doom. I choose the brightness, but I can understand Turner’s despair. Perhaps he had no light in his life and no vision of the promises of the future.”
“And you do? What is the future you see, my darling Penelope?”
It wasn’t the right time to ask such questions, A herd of people cavalcaded in our direction in their rush to complete their journey through the gallery.
We stepped aside and then retreated.
When we returned to the entryway where the sparkling beverage and the snacks had been, we saw that the tables were cleared. The clean-up crew was at work, carting dirty dishes and glasses off to be washed. As we stood, observing, the lovely pink tablecloth was whipped off the table and tossed in the bottom of the cart to be washed and presumably used elsewhere. Just as I commented on that, the lights dimmed and then did a quick blink on and off. It was closing time for the grand opening of Caldwell’s Fine Arts Gallery.
Timothy and I remained in the foyer, bidding the guests goodbye. Franco was there, as well, doing a wonderful job of PR. He seemed to know everyone’s name, offered handshakes, and gave brilliant smiles to all the ladies. Several appraised him with the same enthusiasm. I was sure that the general manager of the gallery would profit from this gala with enough dates to last him several months.
“Are you jealous?” Timothy asked, but I saw that he was teasing and just shook my head.
When the last of the stragglers had made their way out the doors, Timothy played the nice boss role and praised Danny’s success in setting up the event. The two chatted for a moment, but then Timothy reminded him that the gallery would be opening at ten in the morning. “Are we set up for that as well?”
“Of course, boss,” Mr. Franco said. “Guards, docents, ticket takers, and gift shop clerks. All is ready. Except, one of the patrons suggested a coffee shop was needed. Any thoughts on that?”