WHO: Anahita and Josephine WHAT: The two of them meet WHERE: The main tent WHEN: Before carnival hours, while Josephine is practicing RATING: Low, certainly STATUS: Incomplete
Just like always, her side of the tent was entirely set up far before others on the Midway. There had been some rearranging to be done, considering half the space was empty with Cassidy's leaving. She utilized a little bit more of the space, spreading out her displays so that they were easier to see. Perhaps there would be another body mod artist, and perhaps there wouldn't be. As it was, she had some extra space to use. Once things had been arranged to her liking, she was left with trying to figure out something to do. There wasn't anyone that was supposed to be coming by before carnival hours that day, so there was time to fill. Anahita ran a hand over her displays, and felt that familiar urge to sketch. But instead of sketching new tattoo designs...she'd go and find something else. Something different. After all, she couldn't ignore the desire to create.
With a fresh sketchbook and her charcoal pencils in hand, she made her way down the Midway, looking for something that caught her eye. Anything. As it was, nothing much was standing out. She kept walking, finding herself at the main tent for the big performances. Venturing inside, she made sure to be quiet in case there was someone practicing. And at first, it seemed like there wasn't anyone there. She paused a moment, prepared to turn and leave in search of inspiration elsewhere. But then she heard music begin to play. She turned back, looking toward the performance area. And there was someone there. A woman she didn't recognize, working with hoops. Interesting.
Still not saying anything, she made her way further into the tent, finding a seat and opening her sketchbook in her lap. As she looked at the woman practicing what had to be her act for the main tent, she felt that inspiration flow through her. It was easy to pick up the pencil and let the point glide over the paper, making the curve of the hoop and the soft grace of the feminine form doing the tricks. It was beautiful, to say the least. More than worthy of being put into art.