CHAPTER SIX
Before I looked for Kandinsky, I figured I’d visit MICA while I was in the neighborhood. So before I left Java Joe’s, I asked if there was an instructor at the school who might be helpful.
“Now that you mention it,” Steve said, “there is one that everyone likes. Marie Solomon. She mentors a lot of students. Melissa might be one. You could see if she knows anything.”
“Thanks, I will.” I lifted my latte cup in farewell.
The art school is spread over several blocks of the Bolton Hill area, and the logical place to start seemed like the administration building, a solid, white block of classical architecture. The high-ceilinged, columned foyer surrounded a marble stairway built to impress. One staircase led down from each side of the second floor, they met in the middle and then descended as a single staircase that widened right before it reached the first floor. If I squinted, the steps seemed to create illusory ripples, as if the stairway had managed to liquefy.
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