Life Art

"Oh my God, You've got to be kidding me? You're pimping out your friends to keep your geeks happy now?" Kallah couldn't believe it and shook her head with a half-laugh hoping that Amber was kidding.

"It's not like that," Amber said defensively. "You said yourself you're in a rut and I thought you might like a change of pace. He's a great guy honestly."

"I am sure he is, but I am not sure I am I cut out to be a corporate whore, like you," Kallah replied a little angry that her friend had suggested it.

"Nice. You're all class, Kallah," Amber said stung by her words. "Forget I ever mentioned it."

"Mentioned, what?" Louise asked as she sat with them.

"My wonderful corporate friend here was trying to set me up on a date with one of the geeks she babysits," Kallah explained.

"Wow! You really do go out of your way to offer full service in your HR department," Louise laughed. "You're pimping for the little brats now?"

"Thank you!" Kallah exclaimed, "It's pimping right?"

"It's not. I just like this guy. He's sweet. Comes from a good family, first time in the big bad city, doesn't know anyone, works a sixty-hour week because he is the new guy and has something to prove to all the other programmers. Drives a Porsche..." her voice trailed off as she left the bait about him being rich out there for them to mull over.

"Weighs two hundred pounds, large right forearm..." Kallah laughed thinking of the geeks she knew at work and mimicked a guy wanking.

"Now, now let's not be too hasty," Louise said with a sly smile, "Exactly where does this Porsche driver live?"

"He is so not your type Louise. He doesn't go to clubs or fabulous restaurants just to say they were thee with whatever celebrity is in town," Amber laughed.

"Urg why are the good ones always so shy and reclusive," Louise lamented, "Oh well did I tell you who I saw in The Zoo last night?"

The fourth of the friends, Donna, arrived and the conversation remained firmly on gossip about their lives where they had been who they had seen and the ever present husbands and boyfriends. The disparity in their ages didn't seem to matter and never truly had, Kallah, the youngest and Amber, the oldest of the group were step-sisters though they had not really grown up together. The two others ranged in the decade that stood between the two. Each brought something unique to their weekly gatherings, and each of them treasured the friendship that had blossomed with the other ladies.

As the raucous luncheon broke up, Amber turned to Kallah one last time and spoke quietly, "One date, I'll even chaperone with Bryan. You'll be surprised, I promise, his mother is some sort of artist too. So you will have something in common at least," she wheedled.

"Okay, fine, but only because I haven't been on a decent date for forever, set it up and let me know when, my calendar is open most of next week," Kallah sighed rolling her eyes as she finally gave in as she always did with Amber.

"Perfect, we'll go somewhere nice but not too nice, comfortable okay?" Amber knew from experience thatKallah's stubborn, independent streak meant she would want to pay her own way and working as a research assistant did not leave much fun cash after taking out living expenses. Amber certainly didn't want her dipping into the money she had scrimped to save for an art school she had been wanting to go to for years. At least not for a blind date.

*****

Amber had been swift to set up a date; she hadn't wanted Kallah to overthink it and change her mind. Amber and her husband, Bryan, sat in a Japanese restaurant with Mason, her colleague from work. Bryan was his usual genial self and was easily able to find common ground with the quiet man who sat across the table from them and engaged him in conversation.

Kallah walked in several minutes later smiling and apologising for keeping them waiting. She scooted into a chair but not before the young man seated with her friends had half risen at her arrival. Amber made the briefest of introductions before flagging down a waiter and ordering a bottle wine to share.

"How ya been, Kal-gal," Bryan leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"Pretty good, how's you, Bry?" She asked, "Amber forcing you to dress up again?"

"Yeah, but I scrub up all right so who can blame her," he winked at her. "I'm starving what about you Mason?"

"The menu looks great. Do you come here often?" Mason asked.

"We had our first date here," Amber answered taking Bryan's hand. "He scrubbed up well that night too." She leaned over to kiss her husband.

"Awkward," Kallah gave Mason a lop-sided smile. "So what's everyone decided on," she picked up her menu to browse through it.

"Well, as you have been here before what do you recommend?" Mason asked Amber.

"I love the tempura vegetables, but the Yankiniku or Sukiyaki is good here too, according to the carnivore," she smiled. She wasn't a strict vegetarian but had a preference for those types of meals.

"Oh yeah, Yakiniku for me, that Wagyu they use here is amazing," Bryan spoke mostly to Mason.

"Sounds good, I'll go with what he said," Mason laughed.

The waiter arrived with the wine, and they ordered. Kallah was surprised that Mason was far from the shy computer geek she had assumed was to be her date, going by the programmer title Amber had given him. Despite her reservations about this whole blind date thing, she found herself liking Mason more and more as the night went on. He was easy to talk to and didn't seem to have any agenda of his own that Kallah could see.

"So have you heard yet?" Amber asked Kallah during a brief lull in the conversation.

"No, but I am hopeful this year. I don't seem to have gotten the automatic

Thanks for your interest, but we are not accepting anymore applications

letter that usually comes in around this time," Kallah said.

"Well, fingers crossed, Hun," Amber held up her hand showing crossed fingers.

"Every year she applies to attend some summer school for starving artists," Bryan murmured to Mason.

"Not every year just the last two years, and it's not a summer school," Kallah said defensively. "When I was in University, one of my professors talked about a small group of artists who got together at lightning Ridge at the beginning of every summer to offer workshops," She turned to Mason and explained further. "They take about a dozen or so talented people and offer Master classes for a couple of weeks, I heard one of my favourite artists was going to be there again this year, so I submitted a portfolio for consideration."

"She's pretty good," Amber added, "We've got a couple of her originals at home, haven't we?"

"Yeah, we're just waiting for her to get all famous and stuff, and then we'll sell them for squillions" Bryan nodded and winked at Kallah with a teasing smirk

"What sort of art is your forte?" Mason was genuinely interested.

"I like pastels mostly, charcoals, sketching... painting sometimes. I haven't got an on-going theme, a bit of this and that," Kallah shrugged. "It's one of the reasons I really want to go, plus I could use a break from work."

"My mum dabbles a bit, she is more of a sculptor though, says she likes making the stone softer," Mason said, "She used to drag me through art galleries until I got old enough to rebel against it. I miss it now and then though. Maybe you can show me around some of the good ones here, I am pretty new to this city."

"Oh God," Amber groaned, "Don't feed her addiction she is already disappearing into those galleries far too often for far too long."

"Oh, I am not," Kallah swatted at Amber good-naturedly, "Sure I would like that," she smiled at Mason. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to go to the little girl's room." She stood from the table a little unsteady on her feet and looked at the second bottle of wine seeing that she and Amber had almost finished it by themselves.

"I'll come," Amber sang happily and leaned over murmuring to Bryan before she too stood up and walked with Kallah to the bathrooms. "So, he's nice right?"

"Yes, he's nice," Kallah agreed, "Just don't push it okay?"

"Okay," Amber grinned at her. "Don't get all mad and stubborn the way you normally do when we go out, Bryan is paying the check and the guys are meeting us outside so he can have a smoke before we get in the car." Kallah started to argue, but Amber cut across her words, "Just buy me lunch next time we meet up, okay?"

"Okay," Kallah agreed reluctantly.

*****

Mason had been pleasantly surprised by the blind date setup by Amber. He had agreed because of the relationship Amber had built with him since she had head hunted him from a smaller southern firm he had joined after leaving university. She had helped with his move to the northern city and had taken an interest in his life in general. When she suggested a date with a friend of hers, he had been sceptical. If a girl needed her friends to set her up on a date there had to be something wrong with her he had thought.

He had liked Kallah though; she was bright and funny, not to mention cute. He had called her the following day and setup a date for the following Saturday afternoon. She had suggested the Gallery of Modern Art, which she had called GOMA at first, confusing him. He felt dumb as she explained the acronym. She had just laughed and said she had forgotten he was not from the city.

He had decided not to be dumb again and had done some research about the city in which he now lived. He had liked the location of GOMA and began to look at the fact that it was directly across the river from the city as well as being nestled at the edge of the Southbank Parklands. There was plenty to do if the initial unchaperoned date at an art gallery went well, and they wanted to continue on into the evening.

Mason wasn't exactly the shy guy Amber thought him to be. He was just more a quiet watcher who liked to be comfortable in any given situation or conversation before saying anything. His father had always said it was better to be thought a fool than open your mouth and prove it to everyone. He smiled at the memory. His father had been an island of sanity in his crazy childhood with his free-spirited, eccentric mother who embraced life as an adventure to be lived to the fullest.

It was only as a young adult that he had come to know she was manic. Her highs were long and full of happy times, and her lows became the darkest of times for the whole family. Luckily, with his father's help those times did not last long and after seeing the toll it took on her family she would always agree to go back on her medication.

Believing she would be amused that he had a date with an aspiring artist, Mason decided to give his mother a call. She had laughed merrily that what he had rebelled against most within his own family was what he now found attractive in a possible partner. She had lamented once again the squandering of his own artistic gifts in favour of the lifeless metal and plastic boxes of his computers.

Mason had rolled his eyes and refusing to engage in the years long debate over where his talents lay and asked if she had heard of a summer school for budding artists at Lightning Ridge.

"Oh Mason, finally!" his mother exclaimed. "But if you want to pursue your talent you don't want to go there, it's just an excuse for some so-called artists to get away for a few weeks and take advantage of their protégé's."

"Don't they invite applications, and run workshops?" Mason was confused wondering if perhaps he had misheard Kallah's explanation.

"Oh, they have to do that in order to get the whole thing funded by the arts council, but generally speaking, only their protégés succeed in winning those coveted spots, I go out there, now and then as a guest artist, but only for a day or two. It's not my scene," she explained. "Your Uncle Paul is the arts council director out there."

"Uncle Paul?" He questioned and hearing a murmur of assent went on, "Well surely if you are doing a workshop it can't be all about affairs of the heart, or dirty weekends in paradise," Mason said with a laugh, "Though with Uncle Paul you would never know for sure."

"I understand that young men don't like to think of their mothers as mere humans with needs, but I have hardly been a nun since your father's passing," she said, her voice fading off as if suddenly reminded of a painful event.

"Ew mum please stop! Plus Dad told me that you only ever had sex once, and that was to conceive me," he chuckled, "and that is what I choose to believe is still the case. The alternative is just all sorts of wrong." Changing the subject quickly again, he asked if she had any pieces on show at GOMA that he could check out while he was there.

Easily distracted she had spoken not only about a piece she had on display there but the work of other friends and artists that she knew and admired. It was much later when he finally said good night to her. He loved his mother, as any son would he supposed, but it had taken him some time to recover from his crazy childhood of artist colonies and his mother's bohemian friends inhabiting their home and stealing any form of normality his father had tried to give him.

At the onset of puberty, he had begun to rebel against anything art related and had gratefully gone off to boarding school far from the roller coaster ride that accompanied living with his mother, Patrice Gallagher: Sculptor. His father had died in a freak car accident during Mason's first year at university, and he had returned home to grieve and look after his mother during that dark time in their lives.

During that time, he came to realise how deep the friendships and feelings of his mother's friends were. He came to understand his mother better through her friends and their interactions, and he came to respect the dedication and emotional fortitude it took to put themselves on public display for other people to judge through their work. He knew he was not that brave or talented despite his mother's protests.

The small group who had stayed to rally around Patrice and her son were incredible at knowing when to push them into the living world again and when to sit back and let them remember and grieve. When it came time for him to return to university he knew he did not have to worry about his mother, his father had seen to it that she had a good agent, and a better lawyer who handled all their finances. She had her friends and a relationship with him that they both enjoyed far more than they had in years.

His thoughts went to the girl he had just met, and he wondered if she was brave with her art or if she was like so many modern artists who thrived on the shock value and revelled in public outrage as much as the art world's praise. Time would tell but what little he knew of Kallah he liked and was looking forward to getting to know her better.

*****

Kallah sat on a stone bench in the terraced garden outside of the northern entrance to the gallery of modern art. She loved it there looking out over the river where the city reared up on the far bank, all stone and glass reflecting the sun's rays back into her shaded spot. She looked at her watch. It was still early, but she looked around just in case Mason too had arrived with time to spare as well.

She looked down towards the parklands and imagined in her mind's eye the bright sails that would be being set up for the twilight markets that evening. She loved poking around the markets; all sorts of strange and unusual items and people could be found there, from palm readers to doll makers, musicians to aromatherapy oils and massages. Maybe, if all went well, they could wander through the markets after the art gallery and pick up something to nibble on as they walked around. That would be preferable than an awkward dinner for two, which was far too much like a real date than what she wanted right now.

He seemed like a great guy just as Amber had said, but she was always cautious when things seemed too good to be true. He was reasonably good looking, in that unkempt sort of way, wealthy, according to Amber, and had a good understanding of art and artists, what more could she ask for in a man? She knew there had to be some major flaw there, so she wasn't about to rush headlong into anything before she found it. ` "Hello there," Mason said as he stepped down onto the terrace she sat upon sitting beside her.

"Hi," she smiled, "They're setting up the twilight markets, have you ever been?" She pointed out towards the few brightly coloured sails being erected in the parklands.

"No, but then there is a lot of the city I haven't seen yet," he smiled. "I am looking forward to seeing the gallery though shall we go in?" He held out his hand to help her up from the spot where she sat.

"Sure," Kallah said and took his hand standing beside him. Neither let go of the others hand as they walk toward the gallery entrance. Mason opened the door and held it open for her, and they entered the cool air conditioned interior. Taking maps they began to walk around the gallery following the suggested tour. Mason talked easily and confidently about some of the works, and Kallah had begun to think he had done some research on the gallery in an effort to impress her.

Kallah sat on a padded bench in front of a sculpture and stared at it. She knew very little about the artist as she was quite protective of her private life, but she had seen her once as she had visited her art college and spoke to a packed auditorium about her work and how she had been discovered. Mason did not join her right away preferring instead to linger at some small sketches on a wall near her position on the bench.

When Mason finally approached her he stood with his back to the sculpture and asked if she was ready to move on to the next gallery. Kallah looked at him quizzically as she stood, "You don't like this sculpture?"

"Far from it, I love that sculpture," he finally turned to look at it, "But I don't want to dissect and discuss it."

"How come? You have no problem talking about the other pieces you like or even the ones I like for that matter," she was curious.

"Amber told you my mother was an artist right?" It was Mason's turn to look confused.

"Yeah..." she blinked as realisation dawned on her, "Your mother is Patrice Gallagher?"

"I thought you knew," he laughed, "I mean isn't that why you sat there for so long?" She shook her head and gave a half laugh with him. "Amber said she told you my mother was an artist," he said again.

"No, just and artist and you said your mother dabbled in art. She certainly didn't tell me who she was, and you made it sound like she painted as a hobby," she turned to look at the sculpture again. "The other artists you talked about while we walked around, do you know them too?" She asked feeling a little guilty that she had thought he was just posing with some information gleaned from the gallery's website.

"Some better than others, but yeah, I know a couple of them. Most I have never heard of though, you know far more about this place than me," he shrugged as if everyone knew a few contemporary artists.

The tour around the rest of the gallery changed after that moment with Kallah listening to what Mason had to say about certain artists more carefully. Mason had enjoyed her obvious surprise; he had worried that knowing who his mother was had influenced her decision to see him again, but Amber had probably not recognised the name. After all, his mother was not particularly well known outside of those involved in the art world.

They had stayed within the gallery until almost closing time with Kallah wanting to revisit a few of the earlier works he had commented on and asking further questions about the artists. He spoke easily about growing up around a close-knit group of artists who, while not all successful in their chosen mediums, had friends of friends who were or who mentored and inspired them. Kallah became enthralled by the whole idea of growing up in such a household and how wonderful it would it have to be surrounded by all that talent.