BASTIEN
I have late night conversations
with the moon.
"Luckily for me, I love to watch the flames." Bastien smiled back to her. It would not be like him to have a lover without some spark. This felt right.
Perhaps she was right about the distance from which one should view her painting, but Bastien did not consider that necessarily a negative; he had known many professional artists who had carefully measured marks on the floor that recommended where a viewer should stand. "I am glad you are happy. The best thing about painting, of course, is that you may try this image as many times as you like until you are entirely satisfied." Though if he could, he would save these original two for the rest of his days, perhaps stored together in a small book...
He delighted in seeing the way she noticed herself in the piece, watched the realisation and happiness in her face, thought he really would have to sketch it later. Something about the essence of it...a thing in the moment, not posed, could he ever recreate that look in her eyes through mere paint? "I paint what I see."
There was no one he considered more qualified than Rexanna to speak on government so he listened to her with great interest, placing down his paintbrush to rest on the side of his canvas. He knocked it off with his laugh when she asked if he'd always pissed off his superiors, loving the implications that came with such a question.
"It was not my original aim. Perhaps in the end. But I was an Indian man in Italy with a leaning towards both men and women and a taste for the things the Catholics looked down upon. I was never the kind of man society favours. Or at least not openly." He secretly imagined that most people had actually rather desired to be a part of his inner circle but had been too wrapped up in their social niceties, in their rules.
"It does feel odd to be without something to rebel against. Perhaps it is why I have had such trouble with the Gods. But I will grow used to it, I am sure. With adventure and you and art...there is enough there for many lives to be full."
Perhaps she was right about the distance from which one should view her painting, but Bastien did not consider that necessarily a negative; he had known many professional artists who had carefully measured marks on the floor that recommended where a viewer should stand. "I am glad you are happy. The best thing about painting, of course, is that you may try this image as many times as you like until you are entirely satisfied." Though if he could, he would save these original two for the rest of his days, perhaps stored together in a small book...
He delighted in seeing the way she noticed herself in the piece, watched the realisation and happiness in her face, thought he really would have to sketch it later. Something about the essence of it...a thing in the moment, not posed, could he ever recreate that look in her eyes through mere paint? "I paint what I see."
There was no one he considered more qualified than Rexanna to speak on government so he listened to her with great interest, placing down his paintbrush to rest on the side of his canvas. He knocked it off with his laugh when she asked if he'd always pissed off his superiors, loving the implications that came with such a question.
"It was not my original aim. Perhaps in the end. But I was an Indian man in Italy with a leaning towards both men and women and a taste for the things the Catholics looked down upon. I was never the kind of man society favours. Or at least not openly." He secretly imagined that most people had actually rather desired to be a part of his inner circle but had been too wrapped up in their social niceties, in their rules.
"It does feel odd to be without something to rebel against. Perhaps it is why I have had such trouble with the Gods. But I will grow used to it, I am sure. With adventure and you and art...there is enough there for many lives to be full."
he tells me about the sun,
and i tell him about you.
REXANNA
