Spirit-Sensitive | BxB

5: lonely

Michael was astonished by what he saw when he entered Andrew's studio apartment. It was covered in art, plants, and stars.

Andrew seemed to favor painting over any other art form, and he had canvases and easels set up all over the place. He had window boxes and planters and shelves full of plants, and some others hung from the ceiling rafters along with strings ending in star-shaped lanterns and strands of glittering lights reminiscent of those meant for Christmas trees. Andrew didn't seem to have a bed. Instead, he slept on a hammock tucked in one corner. All of his clothes sat in wicker boxes underneath it. The posters and prints all over the walls depicted star charts and paintings of space and the moon along with various pieces of artwork.

There were several worktables, each serving a unique purpose. Andrew had lamps and special lighting and a quality camera for taking photographs of large pieces, and he had an elaborate computer setup. A printer, a scanner, and one of those laptops that could be flipped over into an art tablet.

"I'm... surprised you could afford this kind of equipment," Michael commented. He wasn't taken by surprise very often, but he'd never seen a room like this one. "By which I don't mean to insult you, of course. It's just that this apartment complex isn't the fanciest of places."

"Well, that's why I could afford it," Andy laughed. "The rent here is low, and I save money wherever I can. I saved every penny for a while and upgraded my setup as I went. You've gotta spend money to make money, right?"

Michael chuckled as he took in the canvases.

"So you're a professional artist. ...Not starving, I hope?"

Andrew laughed knowingly.

"I've come pretty close, but no, not starving." He rushed over to one of the completed canvases. "I'm shipping this one out tomorrow. I just sold it for two grand. I'm not sure why, but my art's been in pretty high demand for the last year or so."

Again, Michael was caught off guard. Two thousand dollars for a single one of Andrew's paintings? He studied the canvases and the sketches he glimpsed on the tables, and... he understood why Andrew's art was so popular.

There was a quality to it that couldn't be put into words, like each piece contained a powerful emotion or energy. Once one looked at it, they couldn't help but stare, entranced. And it was highly likely that his work had been given that power by his unique state of being.

It was true what they said about artists— their work wasn't truly appreciated until after they were dead.

"It's all about profit turnaround," Andrew explained as he excitedly turned on some extra lighting. "I can make art with just about anything. So if I can take cheap or recycled materials and make something that looks expensive, I'll always make money on it! ...It can be hard to sell the bigger pieces, though, so if I depended on that I might go through long dry stretches. I also sell prints of my digital work and do commissions."

"You've got it all figured out. This is like some kind of one-man studio." Michael touched one of the canvases. The paint was thick and textured. "Is this oil paint?"

"It is. I try to stay out of the apartment while I let it air out."

Michael raised an eyebrow at Andrew.

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?"

"...Eh?"

"Leaving everything open and unlocked when you aren't home... You may be on the third floor, but there's still the fire escape. Someone could easily break in."

Andrew seemed to wither.

"I... never thought about that."

Michael shook his head. Andrew, like many of the artistic types he'd met, was a bit scatterbrained.