Aria's POV
"The show title," Clara Reyes said, looking down at her notes. "Raw Meridian. Can you talk about that choice?"
It was fourteen days left now.
I had counted them that morning while brushing my teeth. Fourteen days to the gala and I was sitting at a panel table in the Pearl District in front of forty people who were all looking at me like I had answers, which was either true or the most convincing performance I had ever given.
Probably both.
The Oregon Visual Arts Council headquarters smelled like good coffee, fresh paint and the ambition of a room full of people who cared deeply about something that the rest of the world treated as optional. I had been in rooms like this my whole career. I had always been in the audience before.
I adjusted the microphone.
"A meridian is a
