Inside the Guggenheim|(benedick)| INACTIVE

[JANE EYRE]

Jane was stuck. She was stuck in an artistic rut so large that she doubted that she would even be able to demonstrate basic acrylic techniques to her students. Jane had tried to clear her head by walking through her neighborhood but it didn't work. She tried to sketch on the subway, doing impromptu portraits of the people riding the train with her. That didn't work either. So, Jane decided to go where she felt she would find inspiration of some sort. An art museum.

Having already visited the Museum of Modern Art recently, Jane decided to head to the Guggenheim, a museum filled with both classic pieces and new, innovative performance art pieces. There, as she walked through their current Horror exhibit, Jane felt inspiration nudging her. The ideas were fleeting and nearly impossible to catch but Jane saw images that she knew she could put onto a canvas. Done in oils on a black primed canvas, she could do a portrait of a lonely soul. Or Jane could paint the teenagers of today, ticking bombs ready to detonate at any moment. No one idea stuck, but the end goal of the trip was achieved. Inspiration.

Jane was so absorbed in her thoughts of future paintings and the beauty of the pieces of art hanging around her, that she didn't notice that she was about to walk right into somebody. She didn't notice until she bumped off him and was issuing apologies at a high speed.

[benedick]

How many times had he been bumped into women lately? Hopefully this one won't pull his arm behind his back. Didn't look like that was going to happen. He wasn't really hearing her on account that such high frequencies from women's voices would often times go unheard from this particular man. He got the general idea, though.

"Oh, no, it is quite all right, miss. I too was paying more attention to the art and hadn't noticed you were there. My apologies, as well."

Benedick smiled pleasantly, so not to trouble her. He was all in one piece. No harm at all. "I have been trying to find some inspiration for my work. So far I am just confused by most of these paintings." He sighed, running a hand through his auburn hair before turning to one of the encased works of art. All he saw were splotches of color.

Ben never could understand that kind of abstract.

[JANE EYRE]

"Inspiration?" Jane parroted absently. She was glad that the man hadn't been cross with her for running into him. It made it much easier for her to calm down from her flustered state. "Are you an artist?" Jane couldn't think of anyone else who would go to an art museum for inspiration. Of course, she was only familiar to teaching and art so she couldn't just assume. Well, she shouldn't just assume.

Jane followed the man's gaze to a painting much like the one's she didn't regard as art. A five year old can paint undefined shapes in different colors. It didn't take an artist to make a mess. "It doesn't seem much like art, that. My students could do the same and somebody could find intent, movement, and purpose in any piece,"