Getting to Know Angel Reed

Their story is almost here – Kaane and Angel in RIFFING WITH THE MUSE.  Last week, I posted an interview with Kaane Scott.  This week, learn more about Angel Reed, former research librarian and artist in the making.  Enjoy!

Angel Reed – Studio Tour One Year Ago

“Today on our studio tour, we’re lucky to meet a new artist in our Flynn’s Crossing community, Evangeline Reed.  Ms. Reed, what can you tell us about the painting you’re doing now?”

“DK, stop.  No one cares about what I’m doing here.  They’re here to see you and your metal work.”

“Come on, Angel, play along with me.  This is great practice for that someday when you have a studio of your own.”

A dab of gray, then blue.  The sweep of white.  New age music set the mood.  Focusing on the canvas helped calm her nerves.

“So?  What can you tell us about the painting you’re doing now?”

“That it’s amateur.  I’m only starting out.  I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“Angel, you’re here because you have an honest talent, and you need to build a following by putting yourself out in public.  People won’t clamor to buy your pieces if they don’t know your paintings.  So?”

“Stop waving at this, DK.  It’s an abstract, and I’m using oils.”

“And?”

Silence, making the exasperated sigh louder than the rise and fall of flutes in the background.  Funny, she never got nervous working at the library, and she dealt with people there all day.  Why was she jittery now?

“And what can you tell us about your technique?”  DK’s impatient hands waved like swooping birds over Angel’s easel.

“Stop already.  You’re making me laugh.  My technique is that I slap paint on a canvas and hope it turns into something I won’t use to line a flower pot shelf.  I’ve researched this.  I’m nowhere near the level of anyone at the co-op, and the more I analyze contemporary techniques, the more confused I become.  Here comes Dane.  I’m sure he needs you.”

“No, he wants to take publicity pictures of you too.”

That made her brush pause in midair.

“Then I need to fix my hair and clean up.”

“Hey ladies.  And no, Angel, candids are just that, candid.  Do you know you look radiant when you paint?  Like this is what you’re meant to do above all else?”

“Dane, stop.  I know I have paint on my face, and this bandana on my head isn’t exactly flattering.  I didn’t think anyone would be here so early.”

“The paint on your cheek is white, which makes your blush even more endearing.  And the scarf gives you a wonderful bohemian look.  Yes, like that, and stop turning away.  Give me that shameless grin again.  Tell me about your painting shirt.  Does it have a story?”

Click.  Click.  Click-click-click.  She turned over her shoulder to give the camera a nostalgic smile.

“The shirt was my dad’s.  I, ah, don’t have much left of his, but painting in this always makes me feel closer to my parents.  And to my aunt, somehow.  DK, people are coming in.”

“Don’t panic, girlfriend.  It’s only some folks coming to enjoy art and meet artists and see how we work.  Time to fire up the blowtorch.  Keep slapping that paint on, and you’ll have them over her, poking around and curious, in no time.”

“Which is part of what I’m afraid of.  I’m no professional, not like DK.  Something’s missing, even I can see that.  And now I’m talking to myself.  I can’t stop giggling.  I never get nervous, but this surely isn’t the library.  I’m in over my head.”

“Excuse me.  I love those swirly things in your painting.  How do you blend the paints to get that color?”

She bit her lip to stifle the giggle and blinked rapidly.  A deep breath always helped her focus.  The click of Dane’s camera faded away, as did the hiss of DK’s torch across the barn.  If she was going to be a painter, an artist, now would be a good time to begin practicing her story.

“Let me show you how I do it.”

Does Angel go on to become an artist, or does self-doubt hold her back?  What’s missing in her work?  How will she find that piece of herself?  Find out in Riffing with the MusePreorder it now – releasing July 25.

Leave A Response

* Denotes Required Field