Arting Around All Day (open)
(( Continued from Picnics and Flowers ))
Rachyl handed a ten to the cabbie, covering both fare and gratuity, and got out with Meegan onto the curb before the Arch Museum of Art.
The granite steps were magnificent, clean, and rather striking in the mid-morning light. Linking arms again, they slowly climbed the seemingly never-ending steps towards the top, gazing occasionally at statues and fountains along the side.
"You know, I've never been to an art museum... We had a class trip planned once to go to the one in Philly, but I ended up with the chicken pox that week and never got to go." Rachyl sighed in memory... It seemed a lot of the "fun things" kids did during school she ended up missing due to illness or something more personal.
Together they ascended the stair well and stopped infront of the first painting, one Meegan enjoyed each time she came. The bright flowing colors always made her smile.
"This one is one of my favorites." Her voice was hushed but it still seemed to echo in the air.
Rachyl returned to Meegan and whispered, "Wow, sometimes art is as repetitive as life I guess."
She bumped into a support column in her reverie, then nearly tripped on the bench in front of it. She sat down and gazed searchingly at a bouquet of flowers on a table.
Meegan wandered a little way down from Rachyl and stood before a portrait of a young woman with redish-gold hair petting an Irish Setter. She stared longingly at the painting and with all that she had refrained from touching the priceless work.
A rather strikingly colored landscape hung at eye level. A lone duck stood on the shore of a lake, at what looked like sunrise.
She found herself sitting on the bench in front of it, stunned silent.
Her mouth opened a few times in succession, her hand moving in what should have been beckoning waves, but ended up being just random twitches.
She thought back a full two months... It occurred to her that she felt much the same way the duck must have, seeing her first sunrise in Nachton. That flash of awe, the heart-wrenching beauty, the soul-searing warmth of its rays...
With a sad sigh she moved further down the wall, and found herself before a collection of water colors. While, this particular media had never been Meegan's favorite the ones here at the Arch were exceptional. She began to stroll down the line her steps and her thoughts taking her that much furter from Rachyl.
'It occurs to me that I am in need of more than what I have. Every time I look at this art, that occurs to me. I wonder if I am flawed in someway that I can not be happy with all that I have accomplished over the twenty-six years of my life. I am in a place that most people don't see until they are almost to old to enjoy it. Look at yourself Meegan. You're young, and not humble enough to admit you think your're beautiful, sexually fulfilled, and you know your're a good lover. So what the hell is wrong with me?'
That little nagging voice in the back of her head kept yammering about being ungrateful and disloyal to Good and everyone else that had gotten her where she was, but Meegan chose to studiously ignore it.
As her thoughts circled around themsleves, her steps carried her to a darkened corner where several red tinged paintings hung.
((Anyone is welcome to join us, Rachyl and I are just going to wander in here for awhile.))
"Now where did she get off to," she wondered as she stood, and memorized the name of the artist and the piece's title.
She moved with purpose from end of the hall to far end, hoping to catch up to her friend - wherever she'd gone. A corner of the watercolors exhibit seemed strangely dark, and she realized it was the red lights hanging from the ceiling.
A form sat on a bench in that darkness, and it looked Meegan-shaped, so Rachyl quietly, slowly, walked down the exhibits on the other side of the wing, glancing at them, stopping when she came parallel to the other. It was definately Meegan. She stood quietly behind a support, watching her stare at a painting.
Meegan shrugged her shoulder and continued to study a painting of a man and woman locked in a very provacative if bloody pose, and she wondered what sort of turtured mind could create such a thing.
'Then again, I wonder if I would be capable of creating such a thing. As it very morbidly turns me on.' Meegan gave herself a little shake and continued to study the painting.
She briefly wondered why such a painting would be in the watercolors section, then as she was about to decide to join Meegan in front of it, decided otherwise... And turned around to view a watercolor of a horse stable.
... But her thoughts kept drifting back to Meegan.
She wandered about the paintings looking them all over trying to decide what was each artists inspiration. She stopped beside a strawberry blond woman looking at a couple portrait.
After a few minutes she still could not figure out the reason as to why this loving couple was so bloody. She stepped back and looked at it more. The stepped closer but tried not to obscure the young woman's view. Finally she gave up with a 'harrumph'.
"I just dont know why anyone would paint something so loving yet make it so grim overall. I know love can be harsh but this is a bit gruesome." she stompped her foot and shook her head at it.
"I look at them and think they have been through something tragic, their home and family destroyed and everything lost. In the bloody aftermath they cling tight to each other, knowing that at least, in this, there is still normalcy."
She smacked her hand against her forehead and winced. "Not that I am implying that you do, my apologies for that tactless comment"
"Meegan Masters. The Pleasure is mine." Meegan took her hand from the supple fingers of the woman and turned toward her friend.
"This is my friend, Rachyl Walker."
She smiled to Nyra. "Nice to see you again!"
She looked over as the shorter woman joined them. Moving forward she hugged Rachyl. "Rachyl, so good to see you again! It was a lovely dinner, just strange way to come together. I am so pleased to have made three new friends in one night. Even if I had to get three stitches to do it!"
She glanced ruefully at the white bandage on her arm almost hidden by her threequarter lenght sleeve of her peasant blouse. The cream material hid the bandage pretty well. Her skirt today was a bright geometric yellow and blue broomstick that went to her ankles, hidding her ballet style slippers. She felt almost dowdy next to the other two women.
For some reason Meegan felt suddenly uneasy in this space. The little hairs on her neck stood up and goosebumps rolled up her arms, up around her shoulders and all the way down her chest to her belly button. Something was not right here and she could not place it. Maybe it was the building, or the paintings or the company. Meegan had a suspiscion that it was something more preternatural than that. However, she was not about to voice that to a stranger, Rachyl perhaps, but not this newest person. She gave a small, involuntary shudder, the smile still plastered on her face.
"You know they have an excellent historical art selection here, shall we go view that?"
"Please do come to my showing on the 15th at Ramsey's Gallery. Or drop me a call anytime. I would love to show you my work, if your interested."