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Just Do It!

You Won't Regret It

By LivPublished 3 years ago 9 min read
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The Tropico Café was a popular one among the people of Denver. From the outside it didn’t look like much. It sat in the middle of a long strip of old shops, ranging from pottery to global foods. Inside the café, a waitress who worked almost every day sat behind the counter flipping through a Vogue magazine. She looked up as the shop bell rang and a frequent customer strolled past the banana trees on either side of the door and stepped into the welcoming atmosphere of the café. He headed to the counter and smiled at her.

“Hey Jillian, how’s your day going?” asked the customer.

“Oh, same as always, Amir,” Jillian laughed. “What can I get for you today?”

Jillian loved the warmth of the café. She loved seeing all the students and artists come in to write or draw; and of course, she loved the free food. However, she couldn't help but feel a sense of boredom in having the same routine every day: wake up, get to work, come home hoping to have a sudden burst of inspiration in her creativity only to binge watch the same three shows until she fell asleep. She went into college for Fine Arts with the dream that she would one day become a famous artist and travel the world. That dream went sour a semester into her freshman year when she realized how hard it was to become successful in the art world. After dropping out, she started working at the café and has been for the past six years.

Walking home from work that night, a strong feeling of despair made itself comfortable right in the pit of Jillian’s stomach. The thought of working at the café the rest of her life made her miserable. The cool night wind hit her cheeks and blew her short auburn hair in back of her. In the darkness, the full moon shone down upon her. She looked up in desperation towards the glowing yellow orb.

“Please send me something good,” she whispered to herself. “Send me a miracle.”

Walking into her small loft was only another depressing experience. The only source of light was a little lamp on her kitchen table. The room served as her kitchen, living room, and studio all in one. Without even a glance, Jillian walked past her many sculptures made of countless materials: fiberglass, metal, plaster, old clothes and junk she collected when she was feeling inspired. The sculptures were mainly female figures in many different poses, although there were a few attempts at modern abstractions. The beauty of the marble statues of the Renaissance had always fascinated her. The curves, the expressionism, and the versatility of them used to fill her with excitement. As of lately, they were simply something to look at.

Jillian decided to take a hot shower and head straight to bed; she had to be at work at seven o’clock the next morning. While putting on an old t-shirt and pajama pants, she glanced at her desk and saw her little black notebook. It had once been her everything. She used to carry it with her at all times, sketching things that caught her eye and writing small paragraphs on why they inspired her. Now, it was collecting dust. A surge of guilt ran through her as if she was neglecting a puppy. With that feeling, she climbed into bed. She wondered how things could possibly get better for her; she had no degree, no inspiration, and no money. Exhausted, it was not long before she was fast asleep.

The next day started the same as the ones before: worked all day, came home late, and sat down to watch TV. A commercial break came on during a rerun of Kitchen Nightmares and she checked her phone. She rarely used social media anymore, but that night the urge came over her. There was one new message notification. It was from a man named Dan Chancellor. The message read:

Hello Ms. Hollis, my name is Dan Chancellor, an Art Consultant currently working with the Denver Airport. We are looking for new artists to commission works for their facility. I have come across your page and find your work intriguing. I am very eager to set up a meeting between the two of us. If you are interested, please contact me through the number on my page.

Best regards, Dan Chancellor.

Jillian could only stare at the message. She could hardly believe it. There were many pictures of her old work, but she had not posted one in years. How could he have possibly found them? She started to feel the excitement rise up inside her. An Art Consultant was interested in featuring her work in the Denver Airport, notoriously known for its eccentric sculptures and murals. Suddenly, the excitement dropped. She had not touched art materials in almost a year. Would she even be able to come up with any ideas?

Many episodes of Kitchen Nightmares played as she thought this through. Should she even waste his time with a meeting? What if she was commissioned and let them down? This could be a big opportunity for her, but the pressure had already started to build and she hadn’t even talked to the man. She came to the conclusion that she would sleep on it. If there was some type of sign the next day, she would call him.

The next morning Jillian woke up to the sun hitting her in the face like a child waking up their parents on Christmas morning. The message from Dan immediately came into her mind. She had to check again to make sure it wasn’t a dream. It was not. Getting ready for work, all she could think about was this message. Going back and forth about the idea of possibly getting her work out in the world made her anxiety grow tall. She quickly got dressed and ran out the door.

Thoughts raced as she walked her usual route to work. The street she took went right along a highway. Suddenly, a billboard that was not there the day before caught her eye. “Just Do It,” commanded the bright green Nike advertisement. That was it. That was the sign she had asked for, literally. She picked up her phone to make the call.

Only a few days later, the soft spoken man she had talked to on the phone was in Jillian’s living room. Dan was a tall dark-skinned man with long braids tied into a ponytail. He was nicely dressed, wearing a monotone black suit with a pair of crisp white tennis shoes. After a few minutes of small talk and an inspection of her work, he cut to the chase.

“Ms. Hollis, I have to say, your work is radiant. It is exactly the style we are looking for. Like I mentioned previously, the Denver Airport is looking for a new sculpture for their facility. The concept we have come up with is the four directions: north, south, east, and west. The idea is that each direction is represented by a figure. The execution is entirely up to you, should you choose to accept. Does this sound like something you’re interested in?”

“It is definitely an interesting concept,” she replied. “But if I’m being honest with you, Mr. Chancellor, I’m not sure I would be able to come up with an idea. There’s so much range. It’s a little intimidating.”

“I would like to point out that your work has a wide range in itself. All of your pieces are incredibly expressive. I have no doubt you would be able to execute this beyond our satisfaction. Also, keep in mind that this will be going in a very popular airport. Hundreds of people would be walking past your work everyday, some of them being very influential in the art world. If this commission alone is not enough incentive, think of all the opportunities that could come from potential future buyers.” He smiled warmly at her. “And please, call me Dan,” he added.

She thought for a moment, but that was all she needed. His kind and uplifting words gave her a confidence she hadn’t felt in years. The words came out of her mouth as if something demanded them to.

“I accept your offer,” she said, and smiled back at him.

“Great! Now, for all the details. We would like it to be in fiberglass. The time frame we are looking for is four months. If you don’t think that will work for you we can figure something out. The airport is offering $20,000 for this commission. We will pay for any materials needed. Does this sound fair to you?” he asked casually.

She nodded, stunned by the payment.

“Glad to hear it. I would like some updates throughout the duration.” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and handed her a business card.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Hollis, and thank you for your business.” At that, Dan shook her hand. She thanked him and he walked out the door, leaving her to absorb the event.

At first, it felt like nothing. The initial shock of the offer had not sunk in. Jillian stared at all her sculptures for a few minutes, intaking what Dan had told her about her work. She had never thought of them as “radiant” or even anything special. Slowly the beauty of her own work was seen through her eyes as if seeing them through another’s. She grabbed some old art history textbooks and her little black notebook and started her research.

The idea she rested on was the four aspects of life: emotional, physical, intellectual, and spiritual. Getting barely sleep that night, she stayed up to study sculptures and sketch designs. Even at her peak she hadn’t been this inspired. She sketched page after page, idea after idea. After hours of focused creativity, she looked through the window and saw the waning moon. She smiled at it with gratitude and got back to work.

● ● ●

Jillian’s work had only been on display at the airport for a few months before she started getting the messages about new commissions. She was still in contact with Dan, who frequently sent customers her way. It became so much that she had to quit the café in order to finish them all in time. Her tiny loft became cluttered with materials and sculptures in the process. She had been wanting to move to California since she was a teenager, and with all the money she was making, it was the right time.

The crisp Colorado air hit her nose and she took a deep breath in. Walking towards the terminal, Jillian looked to the left and saw the four figures on a pedestal right outside the entrance. She strode up to them with a strong sense of pride. All four women stood tall, facing in separate directions; their robes flowed stagnantly in the wind. North held books in the crook of her arms, her face stoic with wisdom. East had a hand to her chest and reached out with the other as if to invite one in for a much-needed hug. South held a sword high above her head to show her strength. West cupped an orb in her hands to represent the energy that resides in every creature. She walked away wondering why she had ever doubted herself. With one last glance back at her work, Jillian Hollis entered the Denver Airport to begin her new journey.

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About the Creator

Liv

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