graduation. The familiar Mahjong Set resting on the altar table with the butterfly hovering above were one in the same. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I continued to stare at the familiar scene.
Jon staring at the painting, as well, spoke first. “Isn’t that the same picture your friend painted for you and Judy?”
Jon had never met Su Ling because she and An Lei moved away before I met him, but I told him the story of our friendship and the Mahjong set, and the picture was prominently displayed in my office. He also knew that many years had passed since they moved away, and that we had never heard from them.
After seeing the gallery, I again was at a loss as to why Su Ling and An Lei never wrote to us after they were settled in San Francisco. If the gallery was connected to Su Ling, she was obviously doing quite well.
“Yes it certainly is—down to every last detail! Even the colors in the butterfly are identical.” I replied.
“Why don’t you jot down the number and call in the morning.” Jon reached into his pocket for a pen. “You can write it on the corner of one of the bags.”
“No, I don’t think I want to call. I’d rather walk over and speak to whoever is here in the morning.”
As we continued walking the few short blocks to the St. Francis, I tried to recall if we had passed the gallery when we were in San Francisco on our honeymoon. We did have dinner in Chinatown, and since Grant Avenue is a major thoroughfare, I was certain we had shopped in and around the location the gallery now occupied. This fact alone further led me to believe with certainty that the gallery had not been there. There was no way I could have walked past it without noticing the name. I would simply have to wait until morning to see what we could learn.
We rose early, had breakfast at the hotel, and went for a walk around Union Square. The Magic Paintbrush Gallery did not open until 11:00 a.m. and my thoughts were pervasive. I kept going over and over the many questions I wanted to ask, and I wasn’t even sure that Su Ling had anything to do with the gallery. The Magic Paintbrush was an old Chinese folk tale and obviously had been passed down from generation to generation and certainly known by many people, but then I recalled the painting in the window.
As eleven o’clock approached, we left Union Square and began walking towards the gallery. We arrived at ten past the hour, and noticed the open sign in the window. We entered through the double doors and were immediately smitten with the simplicity and elegance of the exhibited artwork. To the left of the entrance was a display case introducing Su Ling and briefly outlining her history. It explained in detail her exclusive method of adding sand to the oils she painted with to produce the unique and realistic texture that gave her artwork a most unusual lifelike quality.
A tall Asian woman approached us. “Welcome to the Magic Paintbrush Gallery. If I can answer any questions for you please let me know. The paintings are priced as marked, and since no two paintings are alike, they are all available for immediate purchase, and I might add that we do ship worldwide, as well.
Glancing around the gallery, I noticed that all the paintings were of birds, butterflies, flowers, garden scenes, and nature in general. “What is the price of the painting in the window—the one of the Mahjong Set?” I asked.
“Oh I’m sorry that painting is not for sale. It is a personal matter with the artist. Although the painting has been on display in the window since the gallery opened seven years ago, she has emphatically stated that it is not for sale to each of the many inquiries we have had. It was obviously painted many years ago and does not feature the method of oil and sand that the artist now utilizes.”
“Does Su Ling ever come into the gallery?” I inquired.
“Yes, she certainly does. She is here every day unless she is traveling, and I expect her by 2:00 p.m. this
Jon staring at the painting, as well, spoke first. “Isn’t that the same picture your friend painted for you and Judy?”
Jon had never met Su Ling because she and An Lei moved away before I met him, but I told him the story of our friendship and the Mahjong set, and the picture was prominently displayed in my office. He also knew that many years had passed since they moved away, and that we had never heard from them.
After seeing the gallery, I again was at a loss as to why Su Ling and An Lei never wrote to us after they were settled in San Francisco. If the gallery was connected to Su Ling, she was obviously doing quite well.
“Yes it certainly is—down to every last detail! Even the colors in the butterfly are identical.” I replied.
“Why don’t you jot down the number and call in the morning.” Jon reached into his pocket for a pen. “You can write it on the corner of one of the bags.”
“No, I don’t think I want to call. I’d rather walk over and speak to whoever is here in the morning.”
As we continued walking the few short blocks to the St. Francis, I tried to recall if we had passed the gallery when we were in San Francisco on our honeymoon. We did have dinner in Chinatown, and since Grant Avenue is a major thoroughfare, I was certain we had shopped in and around the location the gallery now occupied. This fact alone further led me to believe with certainty that the gallery had not been there. There was no way I could have walked past it without noticing the name. I would simply have to wait until morning to see what we could learn.
We rose early, had breakfast at the hotel, and went for a walk around Union Square. The Magic Paintbrush Gallery did not open until 11:00 a.m. and my thoughts were pervasive. I kept going over and over the many questions I wanted to ask, and I wasn’t even sure that Su Ling had anything to do with the gallery. The Magic Paintbrush was an old Chinese folk tale and obviously had been passed down from generation to generation and certainly known by many people, but then I recalled the painting in the window.
As eleven o’clock approached, we left Union Square and began walking towards the gallery. We arrived at ten past the hour, and noticed the open sign in the window. We entered through the double doors and were immediately smitten with the simplicity and elegance of the exhibited artwork. To the left of the entrance was a display case introducing Su Ling and briefly outlining her history. It explained in detail her exclusive method of adding sand to the oils she painted with to produce the unique and realistic texture that gave her artwork a most unusual lifelike quality.
A tall Asian woman approached us. “Welcome to the Magic Paintbrush Gallery. If I can answer any questions for you please let me know. The paintings are priced as marked, and since no two paintings are alike, they are all available for immediate purchase, and I might add that we do ship worldwide, as well.
Glancing around the gallery, I noticed that all the paintings were of birds, butterflies, flowers, garden scenes, and nature in general. “What is the price of the painting in the window—the one of the Mahjong Set?” I asked.
“Oh I’m sorry that painting is not for sale. It is a personal matter with the artist. Although the painting has been on display in the window since the gallery opened seven years ago, she has emphatically stated that it is not for sale to each of the many inquiries we have had. It was obviously painted many years ago and does not feature the method of oil and sand that the artist now utilizes.”
“Does Su Ling ever come into the gallery?” I inquired.
“Yes, she certainly does. She is here every day unless she is traveling, and I expect her by 2:00 p.m. this
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