closed.

[indwelt]

WHO: welt yang (indwelt) & kaveh (fussiest)
WHAT: art inspiration strikes at the strangest of times
WHERE: around town
WHEN: august
WARNINGS: n/a so far


[ For a week or so, all the free time is a blessing. Welt fills it to the brim each day, taking his time to explore as much of his newfound (and hopefully temporary) home as he can. All the various stores that line the streets, the statues that dot the city park, the subway lines that lead him back to the same spot every time.

After awhile though, it gets old. The same places, the same things, the same people....perfectly nice people, to be fair, but not the people he's grown to trust over the years, both the family he's made back on Earth as well as aboard the Express. The abrupt separation from the people closest to him - for the second time - leaves a pang in his heart, though he's quick to chase it away. No point in bemoaning what's already done. Better to look ahead, and to liven up his surroundings and routine—or so March would say, he's pretty sure. Why not take a page from her book, while he's here?

How did it go again? He can still hear her voice in his mind clear as day, ringing out through the air as she instructs him on exactly what to do. Lean forwarn just a little bit, with extra weight on his cane. Push his glasses up a touch, to reflect the light. And then tilt his head to the left....or wait— ]

Was it more to the left...?

[ Maybe a kind stranger passing through could offer up some suggestions as he stands there awkwardly in the city park.... ]

Comments

[indwelt]

[ 'Young ones', this man says, like he doesn't look a day over 30 himself. (This Welt thinks, while barely looking a day over 40 himself.) The passage of time and age is truly such an odd thing, shaping the way humans view objects and each other.

Case in point: he's given permission to break free of his pose, and though he goes through the motions of stretching out his arms and neck, there's no real soreness anywhere to be found. Kaveh has truly delivered on his promise to make his task quick, despite how slowly the seconds always seem to tick by whenever an uncomfortable position is held. ]

It does seem that way, doesn't it? Even though we gain wisdom and experience with age, we lose so much else in the process.

[ But he isn't here to wax rhapsodic with a man (probably) a third of his age. ]

Are you planning on doing anything with the drawing? [ With a nod towards the sketch now safely placed down in the notebook. ] Or is it simply meant for your personal collection?

[ Meant in the nicest and least stalker-y way possible. ]

[fussiest]

[ kaveh, who continues to think march must be a small child, finishes up the final bits of his sketch with the absent-minded flick of a man who has been doing this for more years than he cares to count. it had been like so when the palace of alcazarzaray came to him in a dream; it had been like so when inspiration struck in the middle of a class and the lines formed themselves into orderly snippets along his notepad from imagination to reality.

reality is hardly ever so easy, however. kaveh is already considering how he would like this to be painted. a small canvas seems lacking, for the lack of a better word. but there isn't canvas here large enough for the vision of a three-shadow crossover that's taking place in kaveh's head unless kaveh were to make the canvas himself, and that would be resource-intensive in a way that robs other people of canvases that they can use.

it's in the middle of that thought that kaveh looks up. ]

Paint it, actually. I was thinking of a larger canvas, but that wouldn't work unless I take up more than the ones that I ought to. [ kaveh fishes an eraser out from a pocket and dabs away at a line. wait.

kaveh really looks up. ] Oh! Oh, you're asking if I'm going to keep the drawing and admire it on my own. I mean, I do love the pose quite a bit, but I wasn't going to be strange about it. It's just, I was just thinking this city could use a bit more colour. There's a certain lifelessness to it that haunts me. There isn't any art to speak of. I wanted to begin filling up the place, as it were. Your pose just gave me the inspiration for it.

- that's not strange, is it?

[indwelt]

[ Imagine. His bespectacled face, covering the entirety of some wall in this city for everyone to see. What a thought. Certainly not one he's ever had in his life before this.

It's not as though he's particularly shy about his looks - you reach a certain age and appearance becomes the last thing you have the time to worry about - and it's not as though as though plenty of things created by his hand haven't had their image plastered on billboards and posters for all to see. And Kaveh does have a point: this city is terribly barren. ]

No, I don't think it's strange. It's very admirable of you to want to contribute to this place and make it a place worth living and walking through every day. A life without creativity of any sort - whether it be art, music, poetry, everything else - is hardly a life worth living.

[ It's just that, well…. ]

I just didn't expect all that to stem from something as simple as this.

[ He's not that special, not that unique. Second in a line of many, another traveler aboard a train, a supporting character always overshadowed by a more determined protagonist. Still, he smiles ruefully, shaking his head slightly. ]

But that's how inspiration often strikes, isn't it, from something small and sudden?

[fussiest]

[ he's being indulged, kaveh knows. there's a moment where his lips quirk a little helplessly at that, because there's something about someone indulging you with the grace of a put-out saint that makes kaveh want to either thank them profusely or give them a little trouble for it. that's the thing, with people who were kind.

there were a lot of them here. they didn't know what they were getting into, but very few people in the universe at large did, and it was little moments like these that has kaveh knowing that people, in general, were good and tried to be so. ]

Right? [ is the pleased bob of kaveh's head. ] I'm glad you think so; I agree, of course. A life without creativity means that what is being built and created isn't meant to serve people. I've always thought that people need more than just lines and figures. This city says as much - I almost wish the old guard at the Akademiya could come live in this city for a month. Isn't this place the best example that function over all aspects of form doesn't work?

[ ... then, with a slight, red glint of mischief: ] Still, does that mean you don't mind if I painted your likeliness on the side of a wall? Say, four by fifteen metres in vibrant colour?

[indwelt]

[ —HOL' UP, FIFTEEN FREAKIN' METERS? Isn't that too much??? ]

[indwelt]

[ Ahem. Don't mind him as he nudges his glasses a bit further up his nose, the small movement meant to conceal the quick flush of embarrassment that passes through him. ]

That seems like far too much work for a single man alone. At least let me help you with the base layers.

[ Or wait. Is that arrogant, for a man to (help) paint his own self-portrait?? Maybe he ought to try a different approach. ]

Or we can consider a trade. I'll let you work on your painting, and you tell me about this Akademiya of yours. [ Because it really does sound right up his alley... ]

[fussiest]

[ the man adjusts his glasses. kaveh grins at the gesture. his head tilts; his earrings jangle like a flock of metallic birds. ]

Well, before we get into what I would call a business relationship, we ought to exchange something else first.

[ here, the hand that isn't holding up the sketchpad is extended out towards welt. kaveh beams. ] I'm Kaveh, an Architect - though that doesn't mean very much around these parts. Who is my collaborator?

[indwelt]

[ What a nice fellow. Polite, good-natured, and skilled with pencil and pen. There are worse people to start up (business) relationships with, that's for sure. Welt takes the hand offered to him with a ready smile, and gives it a firm shake. ]

Welt Yang. Traveler and jack-of-all trades. [ Live long enough and you end up dabbling a bit in everything, by choice or otherwise. ] Though I was an artist before that.

[ No harm in offering that tidbit up and establishing a little (more) common ground. ]

[fussiest]

[ kaveh's eyes gleam. ]

I had my suspicions, considering how easily you let me coerce you into modelling and how you offered to help with the base layers. [ the slow roll of kaveh's wrist is pleased, and transparently so. ] Ah, it's always refreshing to meet a fellow who understands artistic expression. What might be your medium of choice?