Jennifer and Rocket (The Princesses of Silicon Valley Book 6) by Anita Claire

the middle of the barn. As I approach the structure, I’m compelled to touch it. It’s not water, it’s metal, but the play of dark and light, shiny and dull makes it look like it’s a free standing rolling brook. Stepping away then walking back over and touching it my brain tries to rectify the optical illusion.
    Rocket stands to my side, with his arms crossed over his chest and an inscrutable look on his face while watching my reaction.
    “This is what you were talking about? It looks like one thing from far away and something totally different up close?”
    He nods.
    “What about the negative space and shadow? You said you like playing with those elements, too.”
    Rocket grabs some light poles of different heights and moves them to where he has placed taped Xs on the floor. Plugging them in, he turns the light poles on then turns the barn lights off. I jump back and gasp. It looks like someone’s hiding behind the sculpture.
    Rocket smiles as he grabs my hand and leads me over to the sculpture. The shadow kind of spooks me out so I grab onto his arm. The lights hit the sculpture in just the right way, making the sculpture’s shadow look like there’s a person behind it. Without the lights hitting it at the right angle, you don’t see the person’s shadow. Walking around the sculpture, you don’t notice the different pieces of metal that cast the shadow as being anything other than an abstract element at the back.
    Leaning into him I ask, “Why did you do that?”
    “Unexpected?”
    “Definitely not what I expected. Though it kind of creeps me out.”
    “I don’t know if my statement makes my art less or more marketable.”
    “What kind of statement?”
    “We’re in a drought. The news is full of battles over water access. Everyone thinks their need is the most important, and there are a lot of people with illegal wells. It’s a hot conversation.”
    Thinking about what he said, I can see it, the stream with the water thief hanging behind it. Regarding the piece's marketability, I respond, “I’ve never been in the market for art; I have no idea what art buyers are looking for. I think most people don’t know about art, they buy what looks right in their space or they look to the critics if they see it as an investment.”
    “Yeah, that’s probably a big part of it. It’s hard making a living as an artist.”
    “Is that why you went back to school?”
    He nods, finally telling me, “Welding was a skill I had. Wyoming was interesting for a while. But it wasn’t my goal. I dreamed of being an artist. I figure this way I can do both.”
    “Both?”
    “My programming job is visually intensive. I work in a team that builds 3-D modeling software. My sculpting knowledge and proficiency with CAD software comes in handy. On the weekends, I get to work on my art.” He shrugs before explaining, “It would be nice if I could sell my work. My dream is to eventually be self-sufficient.”
    I think about our conversation two weeks ago, when Rocket talked about the New York movement after WWII. “You should do what talks to you. From what I could see by the show we went to at the de Young, when talented artist create what they like, others can feel their energy.”
    “Or I’ll have my property filled with metal only I find compelling.”
    “Do you plan on filling your woods with art?”
    “Only to take pictures of my sculptures in a natural setting. This land was perfect for me. It was cheap, private, and close enough to friends and work. I’m a city guy who prefers the peace of living in the country.”
    “Why up north? If you’re from LA why didn’t you find land closer to home? I would think there are a lot of programming jobs for artists down in LA.”
    Scratching the back of his neck he looks at me then says, “I’ve friends in the area.” He then shrugs before continuing. “I’m close to my folks, but they have boundary issues. I needed miles to keep them in control.”
    “That I can