What does it all mean? Justin asks himself for the third, fourth, maybe twentieth time, as he sat in class and supposedly listened to the guest speaker. Was he happy that they were staying in Amsterdam? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to think about it. Ignorance was bliss and he wanted to stay in that realm for as long as possible. Of course he missed Pittsburgh. As much as he loved Amsterdam, it wasn’t home. He felt welcomed here, and he enjoyed it immensely, but he knew something was missing. Something he would probably never get if he stayed here forever. It wasn’t comfort, it wasn’t acceptance… it was a sense of belonging. As comfortable and enjoyable of a time he was having in the Netherlands, he didn’t feel as if he truly belonged. “Als u om het even welke vragen hebt…” Justin tries to pay attention to his instructor, but finds his mind wandering once again. It was easy to do, especially when his teacher spoke in Dutch. “…Zij zal hier voor de volgende dagen zijn…” Who will be where? What? Justin tries to focus again on his instructor’s words. Sighing, he turns to the window and looks outside. It was a beautiful day. Maybe he would sketch a little after class. Brian was planning on picking Molly up after lunch from Sofia’s, and had promised to take her to the store to buy a new pair of jazz boots for one of her dance classes. Knowing his sister however, Justin knew that neither Molly nor Brian would be back at the apartment until early that evening. Because once you buy Molly new jazz boots, she suddenly will need new jazz pants…and once you buy her new jazz pants, she’ll ask in her pretty way for a performance top… “Wij danken u, Olga Viso, voor het vergen van de tijd om aan ons te spreken…” The sound of people clapping brings Justin back to reality as he notices that the guest speaker has finished her talk on…on what? Justin wasn’t sure, but the pieces she brought looked amazing. Sighing, he wished he had paid better attention to what was said. Standing up, he begins to collect his things, glancing up at the canvases in the front of the class before walking towards the door. “Justin Taylor?” Startled, Justin stops and slowly turns around towards the guest speaker. She smiles, then chuckles, “I’m sorry, I mean, JT Kinney. Is that the name you’re now using for your art?” Justin blinks quickly, trying to figure out where he has seen her from before. “It hasn’t been that long, has it?” She asks with a laugh. “I would have thought I left your group with a lasting impression. I suppose I need to re-think my style of discussions.” And then it hits him: PIFA. Olga Viso had done a grand presentation for one of his classes regarding modern art. More specifically, the modern art pieces that she showcased in her museum in Washington, DC. She was particularly interested in a few of his recent painting that he had done for the class. The two of them had spoken at length before he left to his next class. That was last semester, and now here she was, again, in Amsterdam. “You really travel a lot,” he comments softly, still stunned that she had recognized him. “Yes, well, I’m friends with the dean at this school,” she dismisses, then asks, “Are you alright?” Forcing a smile, Justin nods, “Yes, I’m just surprised that you recognized me.” “It wasn’t really an accident,” she confesses with a smile, “Your instructor had mentioned to me that a student of his had recently transferred from PIFA. You’re the only American student taking this course. I didn’t know you were fluent in Dutch.” “I’m not,” Justin grins, “But it’s a good way to learn.” Laughing, she nods, “I suppose it is.” “So why did you change your name to JT Kinney?” “Uh…” Justin stammers. Biting his lower lip, he tries to think fast, “Well, um, I got married and…” “Oh congratulations!” She offers with a smile. “Thanks,” Justin replies with a smile, hoping that that would end the questioning. “So are you sticking to JT Kinney now? Because everyone knows you in PIFA as Justin Taylor.” “Um….I hadn’t given it any thought….” Justin admits. “I have my own agenda, you see,” she admits with a smile. “Pardon?” “Well as you probably remember from my talk at PIFA, I like to plan the exhibits at my museum months in advance.” Justin nods his head. “Sander has shown me some of your paintings that you have done here. They are very intense.” Justin nods again. He was really getting into abstract paintings. Molly had called his last piece ‘manic,’ which was true. The creations he was making were very cathartic for him in helping to deal with everything that had transpired months before. “I’m interested in showcases some of your work,” She states. Justin tries not to let his jaw hit the floor. “At the Hirshhorn Museum?” She nods her head, “Of course. I have artists scheduled through-out the summer all through September and October, however November is still open. I think a lot of your pieces would do well being showcased.” Justin stands there and wonders if he looks as dumbfounded as he feels. “It would be one floor. What do you think?” Justin finds himself nodding his head. “Great. My only concern however is your name.” Blinking, Justin tries to get his voice to work. Thankfully, Olga continues. “You had started to make a name for yourself in Pittsburgh as Justin Taylor,” she begins. Justin nods. Before he the last semester had ended, PIFA’s school paper had labeled him an artist to keep your eyes on. He had won several awards and was definitely becoming quite popular on campus in regards to his art. “Sander told me that you have begun showcasing a couple of your pieces locally as JT Kinney.” He nods again. “Showcasing your work as Justin Taylor, will bring a lot of publicity via PIFA, however if you are set on using JT Kinney…” Justin interrupts, “I hadn’t given it any thought…” “Well why did you start using JT Kinney?” She asks. “Um, it just…happened. I dunno…” He lies, knowing how stupid it sounds. She arches her brow, unconvinced, “Right. Well,” taking her business card out, she hands it to him, “Give me a call tomorrow so I can let my people in D.C. know.” Nodding, he stares at the card, “Thank you…” Looking up, he’s struck by the fact that this director wants to showcase his work at her modern art museum. “I mean, really. I really appreciate---” “Of course you do,” she dismisses. “I have a meeting to attend. I look forward to hearing from you.” Smiling, he nods his head, watching her quickly leave the classroom. Frowning, he stares back at the card. What did he just agree to?