Sweet Hope

“I am, sir,” I said happily, “It’s the center of my entire life.”

Vin sat forward like an excited child. I had to stop myself from laughing at the grin on his face. “So,” he said conspiratorially, “Elpidio...”

“Yes,” I croaked, my voice barely audible. The mere thought of curating his work made me feel weak at the knees.

“At last I’m commissioning his first show and I am looking for the right curator to put it all together.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you believe this could be you?”

“Yes, sir,” I retorted with confidence. “As soon as I heard about the position, I dropped everything to fly out here to meet you. I know I’m the best person for this job. I’ve studied his work. I’ve written academic journals on his methods and on his themes. I’ve written articles on his rise to fame.”

Vin sat back, clasped his hands and nodded his head. He seemed to have lost his enthusiasm. My stomach rolled. I wanted this position so, so much.

“I’ve read your articles and journals, Ms. Lucia,” he said. I waited for him to say more. “You’re an exceptional art scholar and you clearly have a passion for my protégé.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, “He’s one of my favorite contemporary sculptors.” I paused at what I’d just said and lowered my eyes to inspect the wooden table. “No, excuse me,” I said nervously, “Elpidio is my absolute favorite contemporary artist, period.”

Vin’s head tilted to the side. “Why?” Vin’s eyes had lit up with interest.

“Why…” I whispered, contemplating how I could express my love for his work in words. I took in a long breath, thinking through my answer, and opted to speak from the heart. I closed my eyes picturing his sculptures and let my words flow.

“His works… They are both the saddest and most beautiful pieces of art I have ever seen. Every curve of the marble comes from deep within his heart. The themes of his works are both provocative and gutting at the same time. I could get lost in every single one of them, all day, everyday for the rest of my life and never tire of it. They are raw and poetic… so tragic, yet so beautiful. The merest of glances at any one of the pieces evokes a kaleidoscope of emotions from the very depths of the soul. I don’t know what else to say except that his work communicates with me like no other,” I patted my hand over my heart, “it speaks directly to every fiber of my being. I feel his work. I feel it, as though it lives and breathes, just like you and I.”

Opening my eyes, I blushed in embarrassment as I realized just how lost to my thoughts I had become. Vin leaned forward again and tapped my hand with his.

“Well, Ms. Lucia, that was quite the answer,” Vin said, with a hint of humor in his tone.

Huffing a nervous laugh, I brushed a loose piece of hair from my face. “He’s quite the sculptor.”

“Yes, he is,” Vin said, then sighed a heavy sigh. “He’s a genius, a brilliant, brilliant man, though he will never ever think it of himself.”

Seeming to forget he was in my company, Vin pulled himself round from his sudden sadness. After several seconds of silence, Vin said, “I’m an old fashioned man, Ms. Lucia. I don’t care for formal job interviews and I’m not one for rote scripted replies. I want a curator who understands Elpidio’s work, someone who is as passionate about it as I am.”

“I’ve studied each of those pieces more than anyone, anyone, Vin. I’m convinced I’m the only curator who can design that gallery, the only person who can create a story worthy of his work. I know I can design the perfect space to showcase his talent. I can do this, Vin, believe me I can. I’ve never failed to deliver before, and I most certainly wouldn’t fail with this show.”

Vin laughed and once more patted my hand. “Ms. Lucia, after reading your journals and speaking to you today, I am just as convinced of this as you are. But even if I wasn’t; listening to you describe how Elpidio’s work affects you just now, well, it would have won you the position regardless.”

For a moment I let what he’d just said hang in the air. Unable to resist the need for clarification, I asked, “Do I… have I got the position?”

Vin nodded his head once and stood up. “You have indeed. Ms. Lucia. I’m not one to procrastinate. I’ve already explored your academic credentials and caught up with previous employers. You come highly recommended, you have dedicated your life to curating from what I can gather.”