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[color=lavender]
[color=red]Time:[/color] 11am
[color=red]Location:[/color] Sorian Art Gallery
[color=red]Interactions:[/color] The Array of Artistic Masterpieces 
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The Sorian Art Gallery was a sprawling place, if not for the massive turnout Rohit thought it might feel lonely and overwhelming but for now it was packed with people excited to see a fresh exhibit. While towering pillars and expansive archways made him feel small by comparison, the masses packed inside reminded him of crowded markets back home. Lost in a sea of people, all buzzing with excitement. He found that feeling comforting as he wandered in a space that felt almost daunting.

He slowly made his way to portraits, the crowds ensuring that everyone had no choice but to look at the pieces around them as people slowly shuffled forward. He studied faces that looked delightfully lifelike; some he’d only heard of but never seen, some he’d caught glimpses of at Lord Drake’s birthday, and even a few he’d met back home. Of those he knew well, he could confidently say their portraits captured their essence with skillful precision. Brushstrokes highlighted their best features and the soft lighting made them glow with warmth. 

The sculpture gallery felt like a display of dancers frozen in a single moment. Soft and suggestive curves of feminine figures twisted in elegant poses, perched atop pedestals commanded attention and gave life and movement to marble. It took little effort to imagine the dance each sculpture might have continued if only some force could awaken them. Rohit liked this exhibit even better than the portraits, each sculpture looked so free and uninhibited, lost in the ecstasy of their dance. It was no wonder the artist had drawn such a large crowd; his work was perfection. 

Reflections of Reverie was a different experience; a collection of paintings that felt disturbing and hard to look at. His eyes scanned the confusing imagery of a piece titled Truth’s Bloom. It spoke of something deeply sad and he found himself not wanting to stare at it for very long. The artist seemed so successful, so talented, and Rohit could only wonder what inspired such sorrow to flow from his brush. The Whisper showed a figure being consumed by darkness, a helpless and hopeless depiction that reminded him of death or at least inevitability. He didn’t particularly like looking at it but found it hard to look away. The darkness felt almost alive, a consuming force hard to overcome.

Soon another piece caught his eye, he liked the shades of crimsons and purples that flowed across its canvas. The Weight of Wanting; here hands seemed to move and flow about the canvas, violently prying and grabbing about. He tried to imagine wanting anything so desperately but could not. He thought it looked like the ugliness of greed, or maybe the artist’s need for success. Elegy for the Living at least conveyed something he could easily grasp in concept if not in scope. The figure was lonely, that was clear, but the crushing horror of that loneliness was so extreme. Everything around the figure was broken and the painted light felt like it was dying. Maybe the darkness from The Whisper had invaded this painting too. Rohit felt the work’s sorrow deep within his chest and found himself profoundly grateful that he’d never felt such crushing isolation. 

Hushed voices around him conveyed a variety of opinions and even a few condemnations of the nature of the art. It was more than just flawless technique capturing beauty as the other works had been. This exhibit painfully displayed the artist's tormented soul for all to see, raw and unflinching. Rohit supposed the stereotype of the tortured artist was true for Milo St. Claire and hoped that painting offered the artist a great deal of catharsis. Relief washed over him as he exited that exhibit; it was too bleak to call enjoyable.[/color]