I'm really just a sensitive artist
And up until a few years ago, he would have found it utterly distressing.
As one would expect with the artistic types, Josh is an observer. He much rather watch the goings on of his fellow humans than actively join in the fray. As a boy and well into adulthood, he kept a small select group of friends and stayed aloof from everybody else. Most would consider this snobbish, but Josh considers himself no better than anybody else. He used to be self-absorbed like any young artist, but a terse education knocked most of that bullshit out of him. Though he still likes to think he's a smart, worldly fellow, he doesn't hold it above others' heads.
Outside his small circle of friends, Josh appears to be taciturn and quiet, often lingering outside of the general congregation, seemingly lost in thought. Introduced to the art of hobnobbery through art school, he's learned its better to open up a little bit than remain so taciturn.
It's better than getting shitty behind-your-back rumors started about you when you're trying to keep your reputation up in the air.
If you manage to make it inside his circle, you'll find a man every bit as jovial and extroverted as his looks would dictate. It takes a bit of work to get inside that circle though, but it's well worth it just to see that smile of his.
Nowadays, he will at times engage other folk, but much prefers to be approached. Even then, if you observe well enough, you can pick up hints that he's not completely comfortable with the situation. A few more years should fix that.
As far as Jayton went, while he was there, the group of teenagers that met together would be considered a bit of an 'in between' shy and outgoing Josh. Not quite accepted but he wouldn't shun any invitation to come hang either. And when he did hang, he seemed to genuinely enjoy himself. Jayton came as a welcome break to the heightening monotony that was his hometown.
The son of a used car salesman and a stay-at-home mom, Josh Ayers grew up in a small Illinois town, where everybody knew everybody and even the most mediocre child was considered a prodigy at what he or she did. And he was no exception. So he grew up thinking he was hot shit at his artwork and managed to wheedle his parents enough to send him to art school in Chicago.
And it was then that he came to the realization that he was actually not as good as he thought he was. Art school became more of a gritty introduction to the harsh reality of the art world and that it was not the Renaissance-esque utopia he had imagined. He quickly learned that it wasn't talent or vision that determined the next big thing, but who networked with who. And whole lot of, in so many crude words, 'dick sucking'.
He graduated 2 years ago and played the game well enough to get a fairly notable showing at one of the big career-launching galleries in Chicago, but unfortunately, that fell flat soon after. His art school friends went on to become more successful in their actual art and Josh languished. In his mandatory show-hopping, he learned that his talent was not in the making of the art itself but in the critique and collection of it.
He's currently re-attending the same school to get a major in Art Management, and already feels a bit too jaded and old for his classmates though they are only a few years younger. To make ends meet he holds down a job as a curator's assistant, which still isn't as glamorous as he thought, but at least he's good at it.
Though his life took a different turn, his passion for making art remains, and he's looking for that next bout of inspiration to ricochet him back into the limelight. But so far....nothing.
So when he found the letter prompting him to return to Jayton, he couldn't help but think of those warm, pleasant summers and that strange group of people from all walks of life and yet somehow managing to mingle together as a cohesive unit.
Perhaps that was the inspiration he was looking for.