Thursday

A blonde man with thin sunglasses — always wearing a scarf – pays us. We meet every Thursday before each Art Walk. He shows us what will be displayed which is pretty helpful, but mostly it’s just a formality. We walk around, he tells us casual information, thinking we’re paying attention but we’re just waiting for the money.  

We all have our methods, it’s just me and a couple other friends right now, but there have been more; I’m not even part of the original “crew.” Phillip has gotten quite good at talking people into buying the art. Half of it is pieces of information from our Thursday walk-throughs, the rest he makes up. But somehow, he gets people to buy. I want to say it’s as easy as talking to everyone that walks in but I know it’s practiced and strategic. Jenn flirts with everyone but she also has ulterior motives. She plays a longer con which usually means the art isn’t all that’s taken home that night.

My go-to move are tears. Sometimes I’m loud and unattractive, other times I act uninterested until I find “the one” and I whisper a tear. I’m not always successful, but I keep the most attention and that’s more of my motivation. I like acting, I like having any type of sway over other people. Thinking about it, my goal is never to interact with the guests and always to focus on the art. Hmm.

            Friday

It helps to practice and see how people react. So we make a habit of going out to other museums. Today we’re in Los Angeles so there are plenty to choose from.

We ended up at the Getty Museum, there’s a consistent stock of all the “greats,” historic items, and just a pretty large space to have fun without much risk of getting kicked out for making a scene. There’s a lot to explore so we can spend a full day there, preparing for tomorrow night.

It’s very rare for us to actually make our way through any museum together. It is our livelihood so we do have to take it seriously to some extent. It’s great to have a group together because we learn the works we’re attracted to and we can keep an eye out for each other.

I lost Jenn almost immediately. Phillip made sure I knew every part of his plan for the next few hours, he absolutely loves to talk. It was a nice day, nicer than I’ve had in a while. I started skipping through the gallery before I found a larger crowd around the main exhibition. It helps to show emotion opposite the art so it’s good to walk into a room like a beam of sunlight, though, I was just skipping ‘cause I enjoyed it, but it definitely helped.

I managed to snake my way into the middle of the crowd and lose myself among them. There’s a weird amount of attention that people have in museums. The art and sculpture can make people linger for a moment but there’s rarely anyone who keeps focus on any one piece for more than a second or two. It’s almost like they aren’t really there for the art. This can make it hard to start at a painting you’re trying to sell. Usually, it’s best to make your way across a wall and lead up to a piece where you can really hone in your prowess. But this is more of a tactic for Phillip or Jenn. I’ve learned to keep to myself and just kind of bump into other guests, or excuse myself in front of them. I make myself noticeable before I do any actual work.

Somehow, I managed not to get anything done before I ran into Jenn. Normally, we don’t acknowledge each other but she quickly found out it was a slow day and decided she was bored. Before I tried to interrupt, she decided for the group we would head home so we set off to find Philip. It was fine, it was a nice day, I had no problem spending it exploring another part of the city.

            Saturday

The trick is enough eyeliner so that it smudges but not so much that it becomes a major distraction; I did not learn that easily, not my proudest moment. We spend most of the day getting ready, we didn’t have much to do anyways. We also may have stayed out a little later than we expected at on- two or three – uhh – restaurants.

One by one, we walk into the gallery. It’s best not to be together. It’s not like people are worried about us taking advantage of them (to some extent), but we are working and we do take it seriously. Well, we’re not working so hard, but it is best not to be distracted.

It’s funny, you’d think I would have remembered at least some of the work from Thursday but none of it seemed familiar. I don’t know what it was. I could not focus on any of the guests and I was not focused on making my normal passes. The colors surrounded me, bursting off the walls. I got lost in the dim lights and floated through the gallery before stopping in a section, away from everyone.

“Oh, that one’s mine.”

And I snap back to the piece in front of me. For some reason I had not connected any artist to their actual work. I’m drowning in my own thoughts from an image no larger than my head.  

But I can’t cry. I can’t do anything. I don’t know which of my feelings are stirred by the paint on this particular canvas.

He kept talking but I only heard the words written in the lines of his work.

I felt romance I didn’t understand, one you engage purely for yourself

I saw tears streaming off a brush, movement I didn’t know existed.

I saw a work no one else could buy.