Art For Art's…

 

'DAD, WHAT ARE you doing?' Jilly asked.

'That's it, I've had enough,' said her father.

'You have. What about the rest of us?'

'I took over this shop from my mum, and we had a thriving business. Now, it's gone; the world has gone mad. I can't get enough sales to pay for the expenses. Enough.'

Jilly snatched the papers her dad had flung to the counter.

'The rent has gone up, so what?' she said.

'Everything has gone up except sales.'

'Dad, let me run the business. You can retire.'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'You want me to tell you? Okay, look around. Can you see a customer? Even someone browsing? No, it has been like this for days. There is now no need for your mum to come in and help me. We've had lockdowns, and we were hardly a necessity shop. People don't spend on their hobbies. So, sorry, but we are going out of business.'

Mr Jacobsen pulled his leg back as if to kick a stack of unused canvases leaning against a paper-filled cupboard. He changed his mind, relaxing his leg, and leaned back against the battered cabinet, head in hands.

'Dad, I want to keep the shop going.'

'It is not up to you.'

'What if I had an idea that would bring in money?'

'Yeah, right, like you've done for years?' he sneers sarcastically.

'Jamie can help me,' said Jilly.

'Your brother is even more useless than you are.'

'Dad, that's not fair. I want to modernise the store.'

He grunted, 'Really? What do you do all day? Play on your phone. Jamie plays games on his computer. A lot of good that will be.'

'I am not playing with my phone; I am producing art with it.'

'Art is with paintbrushes and canvas.'

'Dad, my idea is to run art courses. People love to create pictures with their phones and laptops. I can help them improve here or online. And then, we can print off the work. We earn all around. We can sell brushes and paint like before; Jamie can mind the till. I will do all the work.'

The quick coughing fit ended with a fake smile, 'I said no.'

'Dad, look at this,' she pulled up YouTube.

'See what he's doing? He has a photograph on the app, see?' her father looked away. She nudged him, 'Then he cuts half of it away with a wavy line. Now watch…' Jilly looked at her uninterested father. 'Then, using the app, he recreates the portrait exactly as before! Brilliant, isn't it?'

'No. What is the point?'

'Oh, Dad, people love this kind of hobby.'

Mr Jacobsen snorted, 'That is not art.'

Jilly walked out. The glass in the front door almost came out of its frame.

 

'Mum, what has got into dad? He wants to shut up shop,' said Jilly.

'Yes, dear, he's been thinking about it for a while.'

'I want to take over.'

'I don't think your father will go for that.'

 

Jilly went up to her room. Google was busy looking for poisons in paint tubes. After gaining the information she needed, she returned to the kitchen.

 

'Mum, how long is Dad planning on keeping the shop?'

'The sales agent is meeting with him later this month, but I don't suppose it will sell quickly, do you?'

'I don't know. Please tell him for me; I can make it a success.'

'Your dad never listens to me. Especially if it's about business and if he's decided.'

Jilly's brain was pulsating. She felt it would leak grey matter from her ears. She marched back to her room. Flicking on her computer, she searched for "electronic art courses" information. Jilly already accomplished the skill but needed to learn how to monetise her idea. She then returned to a Wikipedia page where she reread about dangers in the art room.

'What do you want for your tea?' mother called.

'No time, mum, I'm off to my pottery class. Bye.'

 

Nodding to the other students, she went straight to the kiln.

'Beautiful work, Jilly,' the teacher said as he admired the mug. 'Are you a fan of Matisse's work?'

'The Blue Nude is my favourite, so I copied it onto this as a present for my dad.'

'It's wonderful how you got the shade of blue in the ceramic. It works brilliantly on a coffee mug.'

'Yes, I hope he likes it?'

 

At 9 a.m. the following morning, Mr Jacobsen turned the closed sign to open. Jilly marched in.

'Here you are, Dad, a special gift for you. And not made by a computer.'

'Wow, Jilly, it's beautiful.'

'Give it here; I've also bought some coffee. I'll make us a cup.'

 

Jilly went to the back room, which doubles as a kitchenette. She filled the coffeemaker with her purchase, waited for the correct temperature, and poured two cups. Next, she pulled out a small sachet of powder from her pocket. The Blue Nude cup had a little extra sprinkled in.

Jilly and her father talked about their favourite works of art and how and why Matisse painted as he had. It was as if the years had turned back to when Jilly showed eager abilities as a nine-year-old artist.

'I thought you were going to make something of your life. But, of course, that was before you got hooked on your damn "apps", or whatever you call them. Jilly didn't respond; she carried on dusting the shelves.

'Is there any more coffee in the pot? It tastes better in an arty mug,' he smiled.

'Designed by a digital app,' she whispered.

 

The following day, Jilly travelled to the shop with her dad.

'I'll continue with the clean-up today,' she said.

'I'm not feeling all that well this morning. Is it okay if I sneak off and leave you alone?'

'Sure, Dad,' she smiled, 'I know where everything is. Do you want a coffee before you go?'

Alone, Jilly took her time, and she was in no rush. She looked through every drawer, cupboard and hide-hole, anywhere her dad may have tucked something of interest. She didn't know what she was looking for.

'Ah-ha, what is this?'

She dusted off a carton filled with rusting jars of oil paints.

'Jesus, they made this in 1922. Maybe a collector would buy it?'

Tracking down an antique art dealer, she sent him a photo of her find.

'Whatever you do, don't...Continue Reading