Apparently, her mother held some interest at present in emerging sculptors.  I was uncertain whether this was for her own collection or a friend’s with similar pursuits.  This particular artist was engaged for his own show shortly. His talent at the forefront though some of the credit was attributable to his being featured tonight.

“May I impose on you to introduce us?” she requested gently.

“Certainly.” I agreed wholeheartedly. 

In large part, the success of the evening would hinge upon the connection between the artists and guests.  A more personal association would always be preferred beyond the act of walking the rooms to view their work.  “Let’s venture to bolster his self-esteem shall we?”

Our movement couldn’t have been timed better.  He had just been released from another conversation as we approached.

“Justin?”  I called for his attention.  “Do you have time for another admirer of your work?”

He was young.  In his mid-twenties though his work belied youth.  For me his most appealing qualities were an openness transparent in his pieces and receptiveness to feedback – whether criticism or praise.  Indeed not everyone had that capacity.  Relating any adverse comment to personal attack was not uncommon in the profession.

Much taller than me, he looked down with an energized twinkle in his eye.  “Always Bette!” he chuckled.

“Justin Worth…Helena Peabody.”

Gushing with enthusiasm he received them well.  “Pleasure to meet you!” he reached out to plant a gentle kiss on Helena’s hand after an abbreviated handshake.

Softly, I continued the introductions. “Her girlfriend Tina Kennard.”  He greeted her similarly.

That was an appropriate introduction right?  At the very least it was fact.  Like anyone else, they would want to proudly claim to be in a relationship with someone whose spirit was as gorgeous as his or her external features.

“Ah, two beautiful women.  My lucky night for sure.”  Looking sheepishly in my direction he amended, “What am I saying, three…I meant three of course!”

I laughed kindly with everyone else.  “No need to butter me up as you’ve no use for me anymore.  Your work, as you can see, is out in full display.”  Placing my hand on his forearm to reassure and cajole, “After tonight your answering machine will be full and your phone ringing off the hook!”