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Subject: FWD: You’re invited to the Archer Gallery’s Annual…

Hey girl,

Want to come to this show with me? A colleague (aka competition) is hosting it, and I want to check it out. See details below.

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The Archer Gallery is pleased to present Young Talents, Visceral & Visual

Opening reception: October 17, 6 pm

469 Julia St., New Orleans, LA

Ophelia scanned the invite. The lead visual was a picture of the artists who would be featured in the show standing next to a collection of their works. Ophelia’s stomach flipped. One of the photos showed Mateo with his hands in his pockets, standing next to an ethereal sculpture that appeared to be his.

The sculpture, a nude, slender woman, detailed her ecstasy or perhaps pain; Ophelia couldn’t quite tell. The woman had been stabbed with a dagger straight through the heart, blood oozing down her bare left breast. Her back was arched as she sat straddling the edge of a chair as if she were grinding to climax. Ophelia zoomed in on the image and noticed that blood had trailed down her body, pooling around her vulva and onto the edge of theseat. Ophelia was in a trance, unsure of what the piece meant, but she felt the magnitude of it—the pain and pleasure.

She scrolled down the page to find his bio.

Mateo Ortega

Visual artist and sculptor from Mexico City gained recognition while obtaining his MFA at California Institute of the Arts. In his second year at Parsons, Ortega won the 2016 Emerging Artist of the Year. After graduation, he moved to New Orleans and now works in his studio in the Marigny. His work can be seen at Ogden Museum of Southern Art, The Archer Gallery, and Gallery Thompson & Thompson.

Ophelia couldn’t wait to tell Jade that Mateo and Bathroom Guy were one and the same. She promptly responded to Jade’s email with a confirmation and began her long drive.

The first hour of the three-hour drive was difficult. The fall sun held that perfect afternoon glow and warmed the car. To combat the incessant need to sleep, Ophelia blared music and blasted cool air on her skin, but the pull was insistent. She needed an adrenaline boost. More caffeine wouldn’t do it, and she didn’t want to stop anyway.

A long stretch of highway grew in front of her, endless and devoid of interesting landscape. Before she could second-guess herself, Ophelia quickly grabbed her phone from the dash and called Etienne.

His phone rang twice before he picked up.

“Hello.” Etienne’s voice filled her car, and she was starkly aware of how good it sounded, how good it always sounded. Ophelia noticed immediately that he did not have a phone voice like most people. His voice was the same as it was in person, deep and gruff with little care for pleasantries.

“Hey. Hi, Etienne. It’s Ophelia,” she stumbled.

Ophelia heard a muffled hmph on the other end. “I know.”

“Right.” He took the wind right out of her sails. He had been so nice to her at her grandmother’s. It was the first time shecould remember that he was caring and attentive. “Well, I just wanted to say thank you for yesterday.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lord, he was going to make this difficult.

“Look, I just want to ask what happened last night. I don’t remember anything after the Passing. My Mawmaw told me about the crying. She…she said that I wouldn’t stop and that she eventually went to bed and left you to care for me.”

The line was silent. Ophelia felt immensely uncomfortable and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Sure.” There was a shift in his voice to a more clinical tone. “So post-Passing, you began to experience tremors and intense bouts of mental distress, which presented itself as mild hair pulling, excessive crying, and delirium.” He was speaking to her like a patient.

“Got it. So how did you get me to stop? Or did you?”

“Sure. First, it’s important to remember that your response was not unfounded, as you experienced an immense amount of physical and mental pain. I first allowed your grandmother to comfort you briefly before I intervened. It was apparent very quickly that your level of distress required treatment. I first soothed any inflammation your body took on due to the Passing, which allowed you to gather your breath a bit. However, you quickly went into a state of delirium. I attempted several calming treatments on you that did not result in improved behavior. Thankfully, I did not see any signs that you were in danger of hurting yourself or anyone else. It was getting late, so my grandfather and I helped your Mawmaw to her room so she could get some rest, and I took my grandfather home.”

Etienne paused again.

“When I came back, I moved you from the couch in the living room to your bed so you’d be more comfortable.”

“Wait. Could I walk? Or…did you have to carry me?”