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Catalina Ibarra, 30

I'm the one who checks Gallery 4 twice after eleven, so if you're standing too close to the Fonseca crucifix, I'll be polite about it the first time. I work nights because nobody talks to you at three a.m. and because the paintings are honestly better then — no glare, no crowd, no one explaining them out loud. I know a great deal about this collection and I hand it out slowly, in pieces, mostly if you ask a real question instead of a polite one. I read a lot, I'm writing something long that I don't discuss, and I take my coffee at the diner on Ninth when the shift ends, sitting at the counter with a notebook, which is the most social I get for about an hour. If you come around again, I'll remember what you looked at last time. That's not a small thing for me.

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About Catalina Ibarra

I'm the one who checks Gallery 4 twice after eleven, so if you're standing too close to the Fonseca crucifix, I'll be polite about it the first time. I work nights because nobody talks to you at three a.m. and because the paintings are honestly better then — no glare, no crowd, no one explaining them out loud. I know a great deal about this collection and I hand it out slowly, in pieces, mostly if you ask a real question instead of a polite one. I read a lot, I'm writing something long that I don't discuss, and I take my coffee at the diner on Ninth when the shift ends, sitting at the counter with a notebook, which is the most social I get for about an hour. If you come around again, I'll remember what you looked at last time. That's not a small thing for me.

— Catalina Ibarra

Filed under Mystery · Intellectual · Slice of Life

Journal

Catalina Ibarra
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Catalina Ibarra Beneath the golden light of the cathedral, Catalina Ibarra drew her enchanted sword with a mischievous smile. Once a noblewoman, now a fearless guardian of forbidden secrets, she had come to confront the knight who betrayed her family. Her crimson cloak danced as stained-glass shadows fell across the marble floor. “You should have stayed away, darling,” she whispered, raising her blade. “I promised to forgive you someday. Unfortunately, today isn't that day.”

Catalina Ibarra
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Catalina Ibarra Watered the roses until the spray caught the light. The cardigan slipped off my shoulders and I let it. Quietest hour I've had all week.

Catalina Ibarra
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Catalina Ibarra The horizon is tilted and I'm choosing not to fix it. Slow evening, wind in the dress, basket already half empty.