Free Brushstrokes by Lilith Fox Page A

daunting as the world-famous Leon.
    ***
    He had been at the
gallery for some time before she walked in, her high heels announcing her
presence before she stepped fully into the main lobby. These were especially
tall heels, because she was of a slight build and read that Leon was an especially tall man. He was busy being especially bossy to the staff, yelling about the
quality of lighting and the incorrect wattage of the bulbs directly shining on
his work.
    “The colors are far too
blue because of the piss poor bulb. I sent specific instructions, do you need
me to get on a ladder and change it myself?” The person he was directing his
frustration at seemed used to these types of angry outburst.
    “No Mr. Leon, I’ll do it
myself in just a minute.”
    The artist stood over a
foot and a half above the young man, who was of average height. Leon looked at him quietly, his silence louder than words. His presence seemed to expand
and take up most of the room, but his height and broad shoulders did not have
anything to do with it. As Sandra stepped into the room, she could not help but
to feel physically moved by the air of greatness.
    This is Leon! She thought,
as giddy and nervous as any school girl walking up to her idol. Such genius,
such talent! I wish I had the creativity that he does. In spite of the knot
in her stomach, she continued her confident gait towards him, blind to all
other people and obstacles in the area. All I want is to do is introduce
myself. I can do this; I’m a damn professional.
    She walked into his
invisible bubble and he turned directly towards her, his eyes a piercing blue
that almost stopped her in her tracks. His physical presence was remarkable. It
was also overwhelming. She felt dwarfed by everything about him, from his large
frame to his spectacular and sensual works of art on the wall behind him. There
was something in his eyes as he looked at her that was so intense that instead
of sending tingles up her spine, it set it on fire.
    She swallowed slightly,
undetectably. “Hello, Leon. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
    She felt his eyes taking
her apart in the same way that he probably deconstructed and reconstructed his
works of art. She had been around enough artists to know how most of them
studied their subjects. She felt more than ever that if she ever were to faint
in her life, this would be the right time for it to happen.
    After a moment of
thought, which seemed more like hours under the intensity of his gaze, he
finally responded, “I would say the same, but you did not give me your name.”
The inflection in his voice had changed drastically, as
if something or someone had dramatically improved his outlook on the day ahead.
    “Sandra.” She choked her
name out as smoothly as she could. Stepping up to him and making dreams meet
reality was easy. Letting go of her fantasies of this meeting and replacing
them with what might end up being a cold, hard reality was terrifying. Then
again, she had never dreamed that being in his presence would feel larger than
life.
    He smiled slightly on
the right side of his mouth as he undoubtedly noticed her struggle with her own
name. “Pleasure to meet you, Sandra.”
    It felt as if time
stopped when she heard her name come from his lips. She envisioned at least a
dozen other scenarios of this moment, but she never contemplated feeling
thunderstruck in any one of them. The power in his voice was audible even as it
sounded out the soft vowels in her name.
    She realized that he was
staring at her. Coming to her senses, she willed her knees to hold her up and
confidently thrust her hand outwards, making eye contact. This was something
she had been trained to do school. Whenever overwhelmed or meeting someone more
powerful than herself, she knew to bridge the physical distance as soon as
possible to create a sense of equal footing. It was a good thing that this had
become a kneejerk reaction and did not require thought on her park, because her
brain was