Case 012

the secret files of new york art detective

Walter Lin P.I.

HIND STREET GALLERY

A Boost in the Right Direction

Dan’s got my back. One of the few. We meet at the gym, where the clang of weights drowns out the world, but it’s what happens after the sets and reps that matters. Dan pushes me to talk—forces me to spill the ideas rattling around in my head. I don’t like it, not always, but the words have a way of twisting on the way out, showing you angles you didn’t know were there. He’s a good man to have in your corner, even if the fight’s with yourself.

A while back, Dan dropped a lead in my lap. Hind Street Gallery. Ottery St. Mary. Local artists. Urban and street vibes. He said it might suit my work, said I should reach out. I didn’t jump at the chance, but I kept it on the back burner, letting it simmer. Eventually, I made the call.

The Sit-Down

The gallery’s run by a guy named Simon—better known as Mr. Sportivo. The name’s got a ring to it, like a boxer or a magician. When I walked in with my pieces, I wasn’t expecting much. Small talk isn’t my strength. Hell, it barely makes my list. But Simon? He made it easy. He’s one of us—an artist who knows the grind.

He looked at my work, took it in quietly. The silence stretched, long enough to make me second-guess every decision I’d made, but then he nodded. Seven pieces. He took seven pieces for the show, running till the end of the year. Just like that, the deal was done.

The gallery itself was a space that made sense. Stripped back, raw, like an empty warehouse where every echo carries weight. My pieces hung there, heavy in the air, rubbing shoulders with the work of others. And there, in the front window, was *Maggie Joy*. Center stage. Unmissable. It didn’t feel like a win—not exactly. Just a shift. A slight tilt toward something bigger.

The Aftermath

Progress is a strange thing. It doesn’t look like you expect. There’s no fanfare, no lightbulb moment. Just movement—barely perceptible—like the hands of a clock creeping forward. Dan played his part. Simon played his. And me? I did what I always do: I showed up, I did the work, and I waited to see where it landed.

It’s not a win. Not really. Just another step forward in the dark. And the thing about walking in the shadows? You never really know where you’re headed. Not until you’re there.