Z. Luc Haust // Apollōn (radiantdelphi) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2011-08-04 16:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | apollo, pahana |
this picture's frozen and i can't get out..
Who: Luc and Joaquin.
What: Joaquin's art show.
Where: Gallery 1412.
When: Thursday, August 4, 2011. About 7pm.
Warnings: Language? Idk. Nothing really yet.
Notes: COMPLETE. WE WIN AT LIFE. o/\o
When he'd initially gotten the invitation for the art showing, Luc had thought he would have someone to go with. But when the woman he was supposed to attend with (she was essentially a rent-a-date in the form of a backup singer for various artists he worked with - Harvey had connected him with her just as arm candy for the night) said she had to bail, he was already suited up in his black Armani and he wasn't about to cancel said plans when he was heading out the door in a quarter of an hour. If he'd been given more notice to make other plans, then maybe. Oh, well. He could do with some out-of-the-house/studio time. It wouldn't hurt.
The drive didn't take long (which surprised the shit out of Luc considering the time), and he self-parked his car instead of opting for the valet - normally he would have chosen the latter, but he forgot to stop by an ATM and he didn't have enough to pay and tip the guy, something that just wouldn't do in Luc's eyes. He meandered his way up to the front entrance of the gallery - the gallery itself, 1412 (named for the street address, from what Luc gathered), was owned by someone whose name escaped Luc, but he knew he knew them through.. someone. Of course, that didn't help anything, considering how many people Luc knew - and how many people those people knew, and so on. He was determined to find out who it was he'd decided as he entered the building - at least by the time he left.
He glanced down at the flyer that had been paired with the ticket he'd received from Harvey - scanning it for the name of the artist. There it was, Joaquin Barton. Hmm. Luc hadn't heard of him, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. There were millions of artists out there that Luc hadn't heard of - because while he appreciated art, it really wasn't his scene. He stuffed the paper and ticket stub in the inside pocket of his sport coat, adjusting his deep purple tie as he made his way to the open bar. He ordered a scotch on the rocks (not feeling too picky this evening to worry about what kind) and tipped the few dollars he'd brought with him to the bartender.
Once his drink was in-hand, he took the time to start his clockwise rotation of the gallery's main room, starting with the painting nearest to the bar and pausing to examine it for a few minutes - examining the medium, taking in the scenery. It was a beautiful natural landscape, Luc had to admit, even though he preferred more avant-garde pieces himself. When he moved onto the next one, he was even more impressed - and after a minute or so of studying that particular piece, he'd decided he was going to have to find the artist himself to see if he could purchase one of these pieces. After all, there was such a thing as too much avant-garde - and it would be nice to have something new and different in his new place.
He took a sip from his drink and took the time to scan the room, pale eyes flicking over each other person to check for this Joaquin Barton character. Maybe if he'd known what to look for..