(carolena) lady of sorrows (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dignity_misery) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
poly_chromatic2012-12-02 04:32 pm
dignity_misery) wrote in poly_chromatic2012-12-02 04:32 pm
Entry tags:
043 x 340 // video
[She was quiet last month, wasn't she. Well, she's decided to show her face today. She's perched on a chair with a very fluffy puppy in her lap. Peanut nibbles at her fingers as she wiggles them absentmindedly in front of his nose. She's staring at something, which she does eventually pick up the camera in order to share.
She turns the view onto a a large and haphazard stack of canvases that are dominating her one-room flat. There are a few pieces fully in view, expressive of disparate moods. 1, 2, 3, 4.
The piece sitting on the easel itself is a portrait of a man that only two people in this city would recognize, besides her. She had told one of them, once, that she preferred it that way. To keep the ghost buried. But she seems to have changed her mind about that, or maybe she's just resigned herself to something because in the corner where a signature might have otherwise gone are the words 'never gone.' (Before Carla says anything, Peanut gives a few trilling little sounds, rolling out of her lap and thumping to the floor. She sighs and picks him back up.)]
So... what do I do with these now?
[It was a flaw in her plan, really. She likes the sense of productivity when she's painting, but... she can't say she likes looking over her work. She'd never painted anything of her own, before the City. Counterfeiters didn't make profit on their creative efforts. Now she can see her own thoughts in colors and angles.]
Maybe a bonfire...
She turns the view onto a a large and haphazard stack of canvases that are dominating her one-room flat. There are a few pieces fully in view, expressive of disparate moods. 1, 2, 3, 4.
The piece sitting on the easel itself is a portrait of a man that only two people in this city would recognize, besides her. She had told one of them, once, that she preferred it that way. To keep the ghost buried. But she seems to have changed her mind about that, or maybe she's just resigned herself to something because in the corner where a signature might have otherwise gone are the words 'never gone.' (Before Carla says anything, Peanut gives a few trilling little sounds, rolling out of her lap and thumping to the floor. She sighs and picks him back up.)]
So... what do I do with these now?
[It was a flaw in her plan, really. She likes the sense of productivity when she's painting, but... she can't say she likes looking over her work. She'd never painted anything of her own, before the City. Counterfeiters didn't make profit on their creative efforts. Now she can see her own thoughts in colors and angles.]
Maybe a bonfire...
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[AKA 'Mae, you know you don't want to know.']
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You know, there's an actual festivity where people can burn books in a bonefire. Paintings too, I imagine.
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[But at least she smiles.]
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We lost a lot of our... traditions, in my world.
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Some traditions, like exiling women to a confined space within the house during their time of month, have been lost in a large number of places, in my world. Which is good, I think.
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There's always something to push away.
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Like magnetism. Some things are pushed, but some things are pulled in.
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Some things. The good never outweighs the bad, otherwise we wouldn't feel special.
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[Because she is a pessimist.]
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