New Esteemed Patron Contemplating Artistic Nature of Woman's Bust, by Sara Castaneda

New Esteemed Patron Contemplating Artistic Nature of Woman's Bust

after Early Snow, by Jeffrey Chong Wang (Canada, b. China) 2020
https://ca.pinterest.com/pin/842525042807779204/

 Can I get a photo of you, sir?
 
Kai gestured to himself, confused.
 
Yes. If you could just look this way.
 
The photographer snapped Kai’s photo and moved on.
 
Kai wanted to go after him. He wasn’t prepared. This was the first time he’d attended the opening of an art exhibition. And it was here, at The Art Gallery of Ontario.  Had he smiled? Did he look like he knew about art?  He was lucky he’d remembered to casually lean on his walking stick. It was purely ornamental, but he thought it made him look dapper. A prop his father had given to him. His father told him it would give him courage.
 
Kai was shy. A young man of 28, first generation Canadian, the child of Chinese immigrant parents. They instilled in him good values. Fortitude and hard work. To succeed. To fit in. To get along well with others. The importance of family, marriage and children. Kai worked at an accounting firm. Although he crunched numbers, he wasn’t a full accountant yet. But Kai went to work early and stayed late, always working to get ahead, to “climb the ladder,” to make his presence known. Remembering birthdays of coworkers, high fiving them during the stressful tax season. But for some reason, he was left out when people met up after work for drinks.
 
He lived at home with his parents. Maybe this was why. People thought this arrangement was strange. But it was perfectly normal in his culture. It was definitely the reason why it was hard for him to date. There was no other explanation.  He was the perfect gentleman on blind dates, just like his mother had taught him. Buying dinner which showed he was a good provider. He always called his date right after they parted to let them know he’d had a wonderful time and ask would they like to go out again. But they never seemed to get back to him. Maybe it was his small talk. He did find that difficult.
 
Tired of hearing his parents questioning him about friends and marriage, Kai decided to take things into his own hands. He hatched a different plan. He needed to take himself out of his day to day, out of his comfort zone.
 
He turned his attention to Google Search which he deemed the expert on this new plan of attack. It was full of information. Golf came up first. But golfing was expensive and who did he know that golfed? Pickle ball was number two, but again, the question was, pickle ball with who?  Finally, he stumbled on museums. It was brilliant!  It held culture. He would meet aesthetes, rub shoulders with the elites. That night he announced to his parents that he had bought a year’s membership to The Art Gallery of Ontario. That’s when his father had given him his lucky walking stick.
 
When Kai walked into The AGO opening night exhibit, it was different than he’d expected. There were several people in attendance. All engrossed in the art of observing art. In the art of discussing art. He found it difficult to insert himself in conversations. He’d prepared “small talk” index cards and held them in his pocket. But he never used them. He never found himself face to face with anyone. But back-to-back. Or rather butt to butt. A person looking at art on one wall. He, facing the opposite way, looking at art on the opposite wall. He began to feel uncomfortable. His gray suit fit a bit small. He was trying to look knowledgeable at a bust of a woman, when the photographer asked to take his picture. After the photographer left, Kai made four rounds of the exhibit before calling it quits. On his way out a woman smiled at him and asked him if he’d enjoyed it. He said, yes, and then he paused. She gave a quick smile, and she moved on. Had he waited too long? Did he need one of his small talk index cards? Or was this normal Art Gallery protocol? He wasn’t sure anymore; he headed for the Exit Door. It was snowing outside.  But instead of taking the train, he walked. He needed to think about the night and what to do next. When he had to go home and tell his parents about the show. Was it a failure or a success? He couldn’t decide yet.
 
At first all he could think with each dejected step was that he was cold and that his feet were wet. He felt it had been a fail. But the more he thought of it, his mindset began to change. If he was a failure, why had the photographer singled him out to take his photograph? He must have looked like a learned man. And why had the woman wanted to know his opinion about the exhibition? She’d never even met him. He must have looked important. Perhaps, this was the perfect behavior among the elite art set. Educated aloofness. His photo would probably appear in The Art Gallery of Ontario magazine. People would see it. He would become sought after. People would think, “Who is this important man?” He would need to buy new suits. He would probably meet his wife there very soon; he had so much to do. His dejected steps became a confident stride. He forgot about the snow, and the wet outside. Now he was on his way to the top. He was a true patron of the arts. Kai: he could see it perfectly. On the cover of The AGO magazine, with his name under his photo, and a title that read in bold: New Esteemed Patron Contemplating Artistic Nature of Woman’s Bust.

Sara Castaneda

Sara Castaneda is a poet/writer.  Her poetry collection, Underdog Bet, was published in March, 2025 by Pegasus/Vanguard Press. Her poems have been featured in The Ekphrastic Review, Morsus Vitae and Zebra Ink. She has a collaborative speculative short story in Space & Time Magazine. She is the Editor of the Collaborative Lab Space at Authortunities. She is also VP on the board of 11th House Publishing. Sara lives in Dallas, TX with her husband, Scott, and they are proudly owned by their three cats and dog.