There\u2019s a hot young artist in Midnight named Isabella.\u00c2\u00a0 She does these wild, nearly abstract things on huge canvasses.\u00c2\u00a0 While painting, she wears a red dress and heels and a modest bit of gold jewelry, maybe earrings, maybe a necklace or a bracelet.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s not the art so much as the spectacle.\u00c2\u00a0 Her paintings are a performance.\u00c2\u00a0 She sashays and struts and sways; she dances as she paints.\u00c2\u00a0 She doesn\u2019t even see the audience.\u00c2\u00a0 Sometimes she sings, too softly for anyone to make out the words, but her notes are precise and organic, and more than one man–more than one woman–has fallen either hopelessly or helplessly in love.<\/p>\n
But Isabella doesn\u2019t care.\u00c2\u00a0 She\u2019s all about the art.\u00c2\u00a0 She\u2019s all about the moment.\u00c2\u00a0 She was born in Barcelona, but you\u2019ll never hear her speak of that city or its wonders.\u00c2\u00a0 The past is gone, abandoned and ignored, and with it all her sins, her lessons, her failings and her glories.\u00c2\u00a0 She\u2019s twenty-two.\u00c2\u00a0 She\u2019s got time for more of everything.<\/p>\n
She inspires devotion and respect.\u00c2\u00a0 When she\u2019s done with a piece, which may take days to complete, the people crowd around her; they want to touch her red hair, perhaps her hand for the briefest moment, they want to praise and please her and fulfill her every desire.<\/p>\n
Isabella thanks them all, and always has time for everyone no matter how young or old or foolish.\u00c2\u00a0 Worse still, she remembers you, and calls you by name the next time, and maybe that\u2019s why so many Midnighters are so enamored with her.<\/p>\n
On no particular Thursday night, after she has finished a blue and green canvas she calls, \u201cMediterranean\u201d, she accepts the adulation and accolades, kisses the cheek of an old man, squeezes the hand of a young boy, and throws a wink at the girl too shy to approach her.\u00c2\u00a0 The crowd disperses slowly, but inevitably, leaving Isabella a moment to see the fullness of her painting for the first time.<\/p>\n
\u201cBeautifully rendered,\u201d one last onlooker says.\u00c2\u00a0 It\u2019s the mad preacher, the wise stranger, the freak who always wears black and stands outside the Fairgrounds judging you with his eyes; it\u2019s the Wandering Reverend, and Isabella suddenly finds herself nervous.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt reminds me,\u201d the Wandering Reverend finally says, \u201cof the flood.\u201d\u00c2\u00a0 Then he wanders off to do whatever it is reverends do.<\/p>\n
Isabella goes home.\u00c2\u00a0 It\u2019s a nice place, spacious, bright–incredibly vibrant, in fact, for this City of Night.\u00c2\u00a0 She keeps a friend there, a boy her own age, with his own definitions and expressions of art, but as yet nobody knows his name.\u00c2\u00a0 She lingers in his embrace, and steals extra kisses, and then insists on bourbon.<\/p>\n
\u201cTonight,\u201d Isabella says between glasses, \u201cI received a visitation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWas it glorious?\u201d the boy asks.<\/p>\n
Isabella finishes another glass of bourbon and, in her heart, misses the cava of home, misses it though she has never missed it before.\u00c2\u00a0 She says, \u201cNo, it was not glorious.\u00c2\u00a0 It was far from glorious.\u201d\u00c2\u00a0 And for the first time in a very long time, she wishes she could leave Midnight and go home.
\n~~~<\/p>\n
June 19, Thunderstorm Books<\/a> starts accepting pre-orders for Once Upon a Time in Midnight<\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" There\u2019s a hot young artist in Midnight named Isabella.\u00c2\u00a0 She does these wild, nearly abstract things on huge canvasses.\u00c2\u00a0 While painting, she wears a red […]<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[9,6,2,1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/949"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=949"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/949\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=949"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=949"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.darkfluidity.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=949"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}