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Post by moira brigit skarsgard on Jan 23, 2010 2:13:46 GMT -5
The art gallery was still one of Moira's favorite places to be even though she had met the gallery's owner and she wanted to kill him, and that was putting it mildly. Moira's first and only enocunter with James had been an interesting one to say the least, but that didn't meant hat it was the fun kind of interesting. It was definitely the can I please have a brick to knock myself unconcious type of interesting. In fact, Moira was secretly hoping that she was going to be able to avoid the pea brain supposed art patron. Maybe Moira would have been a little better with the whole encounter had James shown even the slightest inclination towards artistic knowledge, yet he had done nothing more then show that he had no knowledge at all what so ever. She had felt like she was going to lose IQ points if she had spent any more time in the same room as James. Getting out of the apartment and into the city was going to do her some good and hopefully quell her temper. Moira wasn't sure why, but she had been brought to the art gallery, even though it meant that she was probably going to end up in the same room as James.
The showing had changed though. That was the main thing. Moira couldn't pass the place without at least checking in quick to see all the new art. She loved art even when she wasn't making it. She could spend days in an museum looking at art. Hell, she could spend hours in front of a piece looking at it, disecting it, getting completely and totally lost in it. That was just how she worked though. Her mind loved looking at art and trying to decipher some sort of purpose from it. There really wasn't a boring moment when she was in front of a work of art unless of course she was listening to someone else drone on about it. This didn't tend to happen too often unless she had to take a tour for an art class or something. It was like the tour guides weren't allowed to have a single opinion of their own on the subjects that they were trying to teach people about. Well it wasn't as if they cared. They were just getting paid to babysit people who were trying delude themselves that they knew a thing about culture.
That was why oira liked the smaller gallleries like the one that was in the hollow over large museums. Besides, it wasn't as if she hadn't seen Starry Night about a hundred and three times. She had seen all the greats. She wanted to see knew things that weren't old enough or discovered yet that she would have someone spoon feed her a text book evaluation of. She liked forming her own opinion on things. While meandering through the different paintings, Moira was drawn to one in particular. It was out of the way and not displayed quite like the others. It looked like it was hung hap hazardly almost. It was probably a filler piece, if Moira had to guess. James probably showcased it without even really caring because there was no way in hell that he would be pic a piece like this intentionally and then stick it so far back in the gallery that people were probably never give it any attenton because their attention spans had already dried up and they were bored with art. Moira's eyes followed the brush strokes and the flow of colors and shapes. It was the most interesting piece in the gallery and it was going to be one of those paintings that she would spend the whole day in front of her and try and pick out every last detail.
status complete
tagged simon
outfit here
notes i'm like falling asleep as i type this
banners caution
lyrics black balloon by the goo goo dolls
text banner mine
template mine
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Post by simon alexander bishop on Feb 1, 2010 18:00:24 GMT -5
If there was one thing that Simon Bishop was reliable for, it was never being on time for anything, anything at all. Of course, it wasn't as though the man put much effort into being punctual, that much was clear by anyone who knew him, though that number was a rather low one. He was an incredibly laid back sort of guy to begin with, his habit that he had picked up years ago did not help with such a matter. Simon let out an annoyed sigh at himself as he checked the place in his house where he kept his stash, finding that it was empty. Had he really been so absentminded lately that he had forgotten to get more of the drugs that he happily lived off of? Well, that added another errand on his short agenda. First, he needed to go to the local art gallery and meet with someone there about adding another piece to the gallery. It wasn't by his request, he had gotten a phone call a few days previous. Apparently his last painting had worked out in the gallery and from what he understood, they were looking to see if he had anything else that might be able to fit in. After getting dressed, he wandered out of his house and headed toward a place that he visited more often then anywhere else, though he didn't generally leave his home unless he had to do something.
A few minutes later, Simon walked into the art gallery, a place that he should have been at yesterday around the same time. He had a feeling that he was one of the very few people who could get away with walking into a place a day late. It wasn't because he was overly charming or charismatic, it also wasn't because he could pay off anyone who questioned him and his timing--it was because he was so elusive to begin with. He didn't enjoy being in the spotlight, in fact, he avoided it at all cost. His artwork that he created wasn't to show off or to get in some huge gallery where everyone would know his name, Simon did it because he enjoyed it and it gave his mind something to focus on when nothing else could help. It gave him a way to communicate with people who he didn't know without any words needed, and when in front of a canvas, he could be precisely himself, whoever that was, and it was perfectly okay and it would amount to something. In fact, if his artwork never made it's way into a gallery again, he wouldn't mind. He wasn't doing it for the money, his parents had left him plenty of that and he wasn't really materialistic anyway. He did it for his own peace of mind, and if he had to guess, if he ever found peace one day, he'd quit.
Once he got a bit further into the place, Simon lost interest in the actual reason as to why he was supposed to be there--for the meeting. Instead, he was more interested in looking around at all the new stuff, it had been a while since he had last spent time and looked around the place. He walked throughout the gallery, occasionally taking extra time to inspect a piece. It was a while before he arrived at his own piece, though there was someone currently standing in front of it. He stopped a ways back, trying to figure out how he felt about that. He was particularly sure how to feel. Instead of standing there any longer, his curiosity got the best of him and he approached the piece just like it was any other one that had caught his eyes. "Hmm, interesting choice of colors and shapes," he murmured quietly, as though speaking absentmindedly to himself. "What do you think of it?" Simon asked the redhead, speaking up a tad more, though keeping his eyes on the painting. He didn't want to seem all too interested in her reply because while he was curious, he didn't want to raise suspicion. The man wasn't one to go up and speak to people at the art gallery often, so he wasn't exactly sure how that sort of thing went. Simon's main concern was that he didn't want to be known as the artist to the painting; he wanted an honest opinion on it.
tagged; Moira!words; Doesn't matter.
outfit; Click here. lyrics; low by marianas trench
notes; Sorry it's a bit blah, I'm still trying to get used to him as
he's still new to me. credit; Banner by ` damaged goods at Caution 2.0 |
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Post by moira brigit skarsgard on Feb 5, 2010 19:37:16 GMT -5
Moira was a little shocked when she heard someone speak next to her. She had thought that she was all alone but she had clearly been mistaken. The fact that she was taken off guard was probably written all over her face and there wasn't a damn thing that she could do about it. That was ok though, she though. There could be worse things that happened. She hadn't been able to have an intelligent conversation with someone about art in quite some time so this would be just the opportunity for that. "Well I agree about the colors and shapes that are in the painting. The artist clearly has a grasp over the major technical aspects of art, I just feel like there's no emotion on the artist's end." There was something about the painting that had been nagging at her, and she thought she finally found it. It seemed like the artist had no purpose that the brush strokes were merely hurried blurry and messy. "It all seems so rushed, careless. It's aesthetically pleasing yes but I can't determine a meaning and maybe that's what the artist intended. Maybe it was supposed to be some big joke. Get all these people to look at the work and try and devise some sort of meaning about what he was trying to achieve and really there isn't one to be found. Kind of like shoving an illustration of people in candy cane stripped sweaters in jeans at someone and asking them to find Waldo when really there's no Waldo to be found. Rather brilliant assuming I'm right."
Moira just realized how crazy she just sounded comparing a painting in a gallery to Where's Waldo. She couldn't help it really. It was the only thing that she could think of. There were probably better analogies but she couldn't think of any at the moment. "I'm sorry. I probably sound so ridiculous at the moment," Moira said turning to him. She hadn't actually looked at the man standing next to her. He was rather amazing looking and it hadn't been what she was expecting but she wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting when it came to coming up with a face to match with his voice. "I'm Moira Skarsgard," She said introducing herself. She hated the sound of her name. It sounded hard, angry, and just like a mouthful. It didn't flow at all and she often considered changing it legally so that when she got famous for her art that people wouldn't have patrons wondering how the hell do I say that artist's name?
status complete
tagged simon
outfit here
notes i'm like falling asleep as i type this
banners caution
lyrics black balloon by the goo goo dolls
text banner mine
template mine
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