The way Armand makes himself comfortable in this space is different to how he did in Dubai. Given to control, tension, precision, even while sharing a bed, and while not all of that is gone—here, he sits against the headboard, a leg folded beneath the other, unself-conscious as he peruses the thick coffeetable type book spread open in his lap. Julie Mehretu's abstracts, and he's currently occupied in an analysis of her early sketches.
He hadn't had Louis' gift for finding young talent, but he can appreciate the work of the established, and so this doesn't truly feel like some form of reaching back for something. If he doesn't sleep the whole day away with Daniel, he will go upstairs and take charcoal into hand, and refuse to wonder what Louis might think of whatever he does next.
Soon, hopefully, the past won't be an act of negation. It simply won't matter. For now—
He turns a page as Daniel speaks, looking up and keeping the corner of glossy artbook page pinched between his fingers. His wardrobe has adapted too, a soft T-shirt and sweatpants, albeit both items criminally expensive.
"I like your commentary," he says. "Is that the same thing?"
no subject
He hadn't had Louis' gift for finding young talent, but he can appreciate the work of the established, and so this doesn't truly feel like some form of reaching back for something. If he doesn't sleep the whole day away with Daniel, he will go upstairs and take charcoal into hand, and refuse to wonder what Louis might think of whatever he does next.
Soon, hopefully, the past won't be an act of negation. It simply won't matter. For now—
He turns a page as Daniel speaks, looking up and keeping the corner of glossy artbook page pinched between his fingers. His wardrobe has adapted too, a soft T-shirt and sweatpants, albeit both items criminally expensive.
"I like your commentary," he says. "Is that the same thing?"