Work Text:
“I appreciate you taking the time to be a model for me as often as you have recently. You might be the only worthy canvass on this side of reality.”
Lian once again found herself in what had been Luc’s boutique, which had become a regular experience in recent days. She now had part ownership of the shop, and somebody had to keep an eye on Andy and remind him that deadlines were a thing that needed to be met, regardless of how loudly True Art called out to be produced and perfected. But more intriguingly, it had become an almost spiritual space for her. Maybe it was because it served as a concrete tie to her self-sacrificing friend and mystical peer?
Not much had changed about the boutique from when it had been in Luc’s hands, intentionally so. Although everyone involved in its continued operation had a vastly different sort of relationship with him, no one wanted to feel responsible for erasing any part of his legacy. Both Luc’s prior influence and current absence acted as a negative space around which all of the new collections and designs had been scaffolded.
“You’re the only person who would describe me as being ‘on this side of reality’, I think.”
“You’re physically present, and you don’t randomly fuck off to non-existance right in front of me. I think that’s the closest to temporally grounded that we can hope for in this place. But I know what you mean. I want to externalize the inner Beauty” (there was a knowledgeable aura about how he said that!) “that flows through you, and to give the common mind the opportunity to experience the Divine, channeled through your presence.”
A faint echo of the empty infinite pulsed through her heart, a sweet scent was suddenly omni-present, and for an instant, all she could see was a misty, blue glow. Intelligent thought was replaced with mindless joy.
Hearing “Could you pass me that baby blue tulle?” jolted her back to the present. “Check this out. I’ve stitched strings of fairy lights into the fabric. And the controls for it are hidden in the ribbons that will weave between your fingers. Put just a little bit of pressure in the right spot, and like magic…try it!” Andy wrapped the ends of the ribbon and positioned it so that a slightly raised segment rested in the space between Lian’s left pinky and ring fingers. “Push them together a little bit!”
“Ooh!” The fabric lit up in a golden hue.
“Try it again!” he said in an excited voice that reminded her of a child eager to see his parents open a gift that had been painstakingly saved up for and carefully selected. Upon the second press, the lights flickered like stars in the sky. “I know it gets hard for you to stick around sometimes. I thought if you could reflect a fragment of an echo of your experiences back into the world, become a minor embodiment of the unknowable for a moment, that would make it a little bit easier. And even if it doesn’t help, at least you’ll dazzle everyone so thoroughly that they won’t have a clue that you’re having an existential crisis!”
Lian couldn’t help but giggle a bit at that, and the sound brought a new warmth to her voice. “If this isn’t already a fully realized artistic image, I have some ideas about some South Safrean cultural touchpoints to add, so the concepts don’t veer into cliched Dolorian iconography.”
“Of course! You know better than anyone else what would make you shine! Do you have reference pictures? I’d love to incorporate your artistic perspective, and I’m always happy for an excuse to hear other artists gush about their work.”
“Hmm…let me go dig one of my old photobooks out of my storage, I think I have a project that would make for some great inspiration.” There it was: the zest for sharing her art and her soul with the world! Whatever the two of them might add to the project, its core message had already been realized in that moment.