Rosaline’s pace began to decelerate as she turned into Greek Street for the first time. She looked up with her big eyes, eager to take in every last detail of these vibrant new surroundings. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved a folded piece of paper. She glanced down at the scrawled address cupped in her clammy hand, then up at the building in front of her. Number eight. There it stood, Lazrides Gallery. Taking care to keep walking at a steady pace, to ensure she didn’t draw attention to herself, Rosaline crossed the narrow road. It was of up most importance to the college student that she didn’t look out of place. Desperately wanting to absorb all she could of this exciting environment and gain approval from the people she admired so much here. Focused on the doorway, she nervously stepped inside and drew an uneasy breath in.
Two sparkly blue eyes darted from wall to wall, briefly examining the small space. The room was small and intimate, accentuating the anxious feeling churning in her stomach. She longed for a wall or pillar to reside behind. Somewhere she knew no eyes could watch her, judge her. Somewhere she could study and appreciate the work that inspired her properly. To be able to enjoy looking at these pieces and dedicating all of her attention to them, without worrying to such extremes about her own appearance.
She walked up towards the wall cautiously, taking note of the distance between herself and the piece of art. Her skin felt hot and itchy as she tilted her head to the side and took a step back. Did she look pretentious? Did she look as though she was trying to hard to look interested? Unanswered questions ran through her head, fuelling her insecurity.
As a couple walked into the gallery, Rosaline’s attention was caught and her eyes followed them until they stopped in front of a small mosaic. Moving along the wall she studied the other two viewers, almost imitating their gestures to reassure herself that she looked acceptable in the gallery.
The young man pointed towards a piece and commented on the red and black tiles. Rosaline looked up at the work she knew so well with surprise. She too had noticed the way the colours had worked so well. She felt almost proud of herself for making the same observation. Maybe she did feel the right things. Maybe she did appreciate the artwork for the right reasons.
It was then amidst a Rosaline’s newly found confidence that the young man’s girlfriend shrugged and replied “I think they are too overpowering.”, but her boyfriend didn’t challenge her opinion. Instead he accepted she felt differently towards the piece and they turned towards the next wall.
Rosaline saw how he the pair accepted their differing views, and began to understand, nobody was there to judge her on her likes and dislikes within art. If she had a basis, grounds for which she appreciated something, she wasn’t going to loose respect from anyone.
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