Writers are much happier than us painters. Maybe they write when they are so upset or do not know what to do out of sheer happiness.
Maybe it would be better if I became a writer. Of course, I can not call myself a painter. I do not identify myself. Perhaps a radio director who resigned one day and then started painting because of money and compulsion. I do not know exactly who I am.
When I think about the past, I see that I did not have a special friendship with anyone. Of course, I might have. I do not know.
Maggie's departure made me miss. All this time, I thought she had killed herself, and I longed to find out and stop her before she killed herself; but later, it turned out that Elika had committed this dirty crime.
Maggie's words made me think about the past and that I have helped many people by using my mind-reading ability throughout my childhood, adolescence, and youth. Something I had never thought of them.
I always thought my mind-reading ability was annoying and harmful. One of the ones I rescued was Jules. Jules is a successful physician; it makes me happy.
My brain warned me not to approach anyone, but my heart was drawn to a girl I had only seen twice in my entire life. I do not know why Jules influenced me so much.
Unconsciously, I went to my computer. I had been disconnected from technology for several years, but little by little, I realized that I could not live without technology. I even had a blog with a pseudonym in which I wrote my memoirs.
Like a high school kid, I searched for Jules. Dr. Jules Marley Black. The second result was her resume, and The first result was about her honors. Her video conferencing and interviews were all over the internet. She was very successful in her work.
I looked at her CV. She was a few years younger than me. Jules, unlike me, has spent most of her time working among the people over these years. She is a psychologist at several important centers. One of the things she does, and it was exciting to me, was working with the police department.
I closed my laptop and stared at my painting. My beautiful Essex was almost over; I had to deliver it today. My heart was still pounding with my brain to meet Jules.
It was about 5 pm when I arrived at the gallery. The door was open. I entered. The gallery owner quickly greeted me and said: "How good it is that you have arrived now. I showed the person who ordered this painting when you emailed me the half-finished picture, he came here today, and he wants to see you."
- "Why did you show the half-finished picture of my painting to someone? I sent it to you so that you can rest assured that I will deliver it in time."
-"I know, I promised you I would not introduce you to anyone, but he is very insistent. Maybe he wants to give you perfect offers."
-"I do not need extra money. I do not want to see those who buy my paintings. I do not want them to know me."
-"This is very important to this gallery and me."
-"If you insist a little more, I will not work with this gallery anymore. Please deposit the rest of the salary of this painting and never introduce me to anyone again."
I lowered my head and walked out of the gallery. I did not want to know the people who buy my paintings, or they get to know me.
Sometimes I looked at those who analyzed my paintings from a distance. Most of the time, they were wrong about my paintings. The only person who knew me was the gallery owner, who never revealed my identity for fear of losing his collaboration with me.
Of course, I had a confidentiality agreement with him that he would have to pay compensation if anyone found out for any reason.
I wandered through the wide streets full of summer blooms. I did not want anyone to know that there is Aiden Adkins, who lives in the corner of the world. I did not want to be even a little bit connected to my previous and past life.
Maybe no one hates being known as much as I do. I received a package today. I had ordered it some time ago. Thanks to the dear internet and online stores where everything can be found, I had ordered something that I thought I would never even see, let alone find precisely the same.
The fact that the postman brought me this package today was a sign that I should visit Jules. It was a beautiful day, except for the discussion I had with the gallery owner; the rest was heartwarming. Today, instead of snow, it is raining blooms from the sky.
I remembered Jules' address, and It was about half an hour on foot. I loved the long walk. I was remorseful when I arrived at Jules' office, But I forced myself to ring the doorbell.
Jules' office was a beautiful three-story building. A unique green space separated each floor. The door opened without anyone answering. When I entered, I was confronted with a multitude of shrubs and rare plants. I remembered Maggie's house, but it was so different here. It turned out that the building belonged to a collector of rare plants. Dorta was covered with blankets and paper flowers around the roof.
I was staring at a Benjamin shrub that had very masterfully become a Bonsai. It had a thick, short trunk with relatively small leaves. Some of its branches were still controlled by wire. I gently stroked its leaves.
I was traveling in a green and beautiful world. Maybe it would have been better to become a gardener than a painter, but it was not the right thing to do because I would go bankrupt. After all, I did not want to sell any of my plants.
I was drowning in my thoughts, and a hand touched my shoulder. I looked behind me. It was Jules. "I'm sorry, did I scare you? I called you several times, but you did not answer," she said.
How many times did she call me? Plants and nature take me fascinated. They take me back to my childhood. Seeing Jules made me anxious. Why? I do not know. I tried very hard to answer and said, "I was looking at this beautiful Benjamin shrub that has been masterfully built. I think it is at least eight years old."
"Yes, it is about seven years old. A few days ago, I tried to shape it more."
- "I think it will be much better if you prune this branch and direct this one upwards." I tried to show her my favorite branches by hand.
"Are you familiar with the plant breeding, too?" Jules said in surprise.
- "A little, I'm more interested."
- "You said you would not come, and I'm so glad you came. Today is not my workday. Sometimes I come here every day to visit my plants. I do not give the address here to anyone."
- "You said I could come any day I wanted. I thought this was your clinic. So I was lucky you were here today. I had a meeting near here, and I decided that I come to see you."
Jules led me upstairs. It was almost a duplex building with a roof garden.
I sat on a green couch, and Jules brought me an espresso. For a long time, I had not tasted coffee other than my coffee. I handed the box I was holding to Jules.
- "I've been looking for it for a long time. Finally, after a while, I saw an ad by a collector. I do not know if it is the same or not, but it seems exactly like it."
Jules pulled the box's ribbon and opened it, and her eyes sparkled; she did not say anything.
I did not want to read her mind, and I was afraid to read her mind. She stared at me. I stared at Dutch coral on a table with beautiful red flowers.
"I saw you three times in my whole life, and you gave me three gifts every three times. The first time was my life, hope, and future, the second time a painting with memories that I had been trying to remember for years. And this time a musical glass ball that was a symbol of hope in my mind all these years."
Jules was right. She and I had only seen each other three times in our lives; But why was it so effective for me? I heard the sound of a musical glass ball.
The aroma of the coffee, with the myriad of plants and the sound of a musical ball, soothed me as if a heavyweight had been lifted from my head.
I looked at Jules. She smiles. I could recognize her smile, her lengthy hair, her shiny eyes, and her magical face. Agnosia seems to be a legendary guard who decided when to be or not to be.