Who: Itachi itachi & Mike mikelane What: A Visceral Visit When: Late September Where: Mike Lane Furnishing Art Gallery Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None unless one is triggered by discussion of blindness. Status: Complete Upon Posting
~*~
Itachi hadn't been out of his parents home except to go to various doctor appointments that had given him no answers. Itachi knew the answers, or rather, knew what had happened to him in his dreams. It was hard to convey that, however, to doctors that didn't believe him. Itachi had been given a nice psych evaluation after the fact.
His mother was concerned about him going out by himself, but his father assured her that he would be fine. After all their son needed to learn how to get by in the real world by himself. Itachi agreed, he couldn't live with his parents forever, having his mother cater to his every whim. It wasn't in his nature to let other people take care of him, and besides, he didn't want to depend upon his family for everything.
The Uber ride wasn't that long to the address that Mike had given him, and Itachi stepped out with his newly acquired cane and began the slow process of moving from point A to point B. He hadn't tried to activate his Sharingan since the incident, and he honestly had no desire to do so now either. Instead he took his time, and finally he was pulling open the door to the gallery.
Stepping in cautiously, he finally stood still, letting himself adjust to being in a new place. He heard approaching footsteps, one of the many good things about his ninja abilities. "I'm here to see Mike Lane, I'm Itachi."
~*~
No warning had precipitated Itachi's arrival to the gallery. It was only a happy chance he'd kept the music off while moving pieces around. He made his way to the door with a smile he hoped came through in his voice since his new shopper didn't have the ability to see it any other way. Mike didn't know what the protocol was so he held his hand out as he introduced himself, hoping the guy could sense somehow he'd reached out for a handshake.
"Then you've found the right guy since I'm Mike Lane. Umm, my hand is right in front of you. In case you shake hands. Do you shake hands? I don't know anyone blind. I don't want to just touch you without warning or anything."
He didn't know much, but he knew that would be rude.
Mike hoped he could convey to Itachi what he wanted to be able to offer customers who were differently abled. The word 'disabled' always made Mike feel sick. He couldn't help thinking it made people sound as if they were somehow disfigured or made less from something related to their physical body. They had voices even if they were mute; Mike wanted to be able to give them a way to express themselves through art because art should be for everyone.
"I have quite a few pieces to show---to get you to give your opinion on. I really am sorry if I say anything rude or something to offend you. I don't mean to at all. Honest. Just putting that out there upfront."
~*~
"My mother would be horrified if I didn't shake your hand." Itachi admitted with a small smile, and he reached out to take Mike's hand in his. He gave it a firm shake before releasing it, and letting it drop down to his side.
Itachi wasn't quite sure himself about things, after all, he'd had perfect vision up until the dreams had started. It was still quite an adjustment, and his mother had been concerned about him stepping foot outside their home. Still, he'd needed to get away even if it was just for a little bit.
"You do, however, have my permission to touch me. Especially if you see that I'm going to run into anything. I'd hate to accidentally bump into one of your pieces." Itachi replied, letting out a small huff of laughter. "Don't worry. I haven't been blind for very long, and at this point? I'm not even sure how I should act around people." The truth of the matter was that he hadn't been around many people since the incident with his dreams. Adjusting to everything again was hard, but he felt as if he was making it through alright.
"But yes, I'd love to give you an opinion on what you have. Just lead the way."
~*~
Furnishing Art was designed to be functional so Mike hadn't even considered Itachi might break something he'd made. His only concern was making sure the guy didn't get hurt trying to wander through his showroom. Itachi had a strong grip; his hands weren't soft the way Mike would have expected of a guy who didn't look as if he did a lot of manual labor. It was odd the way looks could be deceiving yet a handshake could tell so much all on its own merit.
"Here, I'm putting your hand on my arm and I'll warn you as we're walking so you know where we're heading."
Mike had seen people walking with blind patients before. He knew it wasn't too strange to have the blind person hold onto their arm while they made their way along. There was something old-fashioned and quaint about the gesture which made him smile. Smiling was something Mike did most of the time which he was even more grateful for after having met Itachi whose face seemed to have seen very few smiles.
Walking slowing toward the far wall, Mike explained, "There's nothing but open floor from here to the far wall where I have desks and shelving units set up along with some more unique fixtures which I want to try to sell for texture purposes. I'm working on shadow-box options for shelving units in small spaces. It allows someone in a leased apartment or condo the ability to personalize even a very limited space to make it more their own. Or so I hope. Here. Reach up about two feet right in front of you. The wood is found driftwood I've sanded. There are also corrugated metal pieces used as hinges with open wood facings or glass facings to store things in. Open whatever you want. You won't break it."
~*~
Useless was how Itachi felt these days. Adjusting was hard, although he felt as if sometimes he was getting the hang of things. Days like today were the days that were hard, and the days that other people weren't watching where they were going were also hard. The blame always seemed to fall on him because of his impairment, however, he knew that wasn't always the case.
He gave a nod, and waited until Mike had his hand on his arm before he held on.
Following Mike was easy enough, and he knew that he didn't have to worry about running into anything at this point and time. Itachi trusted that Mike would get him to where he wanted, listening to him speak of his work as they moved.
Itachi gave a small nod, "It sounds as if you're thinking of everyone in your designs." There was a small upturning of one corner of his mouth, and he reached up with his free hand. He was decent at guessing distances even while blind, and he could feel the smooth driftwood underneath the palm of his hand.
It reminded him of the beach, and his smile only grew. "I'm a big fan of the beach. It's one of the few places that I was able to find peace while dealing with all of this." His fingers trailed over the wood, up to the hinges and then to the handles. He pulled one open, hand reaching in to feel over the inside before he shut it. "I can see it fairly clear in my mind. I can imagine it's beautiful."
~*~
"Does it feel---old to you? As if it's been worn down by the waves over time? I want it to remind people of the timelessness, the eternity of the ocean. I'm a big fan of the beach myself."
Mike found he was interested in the way Itachi ran his hand over his work. There was a carefulness to his touches which made Mike feel as if the man were caressing the design rather than perfunctorily examining it. He'd hoped Itachi could give him another way to reach out to clients. There was no way Mike Lane was going to become a household name in all of America, but in the OC?
He thought he could make his mark.
"Everyone should be allowed to express themselves in their own homes. I want to offer anyone who walks through my doors the chance to find something which might help them be more comfortable in their own homes so you're right about that."
~*~
His hand kept moving over the driftwood, "Yes, it does feel as if it's been smoothed down by the waves." Itachi had seen plenty of driftwood out on the beach prior to losing his vision, and sometimes it was smooth, other times not so much. "I think that your piece conveys that message well though."
Slowly Itachi pulled his hand away from the shelving, dropping his hand back down at his side. "I agree with you on that. From the way you speak of your work, I believe that anyone that does walk through your doors has a chance to find something or at least ask for something to be made that will suit them." Itachi had no need for any new furniture at the moment, as it was, his apartment was sitting empty until he felt ready enough to go back to it.
Or, you know, his mother felt comfortable enough to let him go back home.
"How much do your pieces normally run? Or does it all depend upon the materials and labor?"
~*~
Money was something most business owners were comfortable talking about. It was part of the whole being a business owner thing. Mike Lane was more of a craftsman than a salesman so he was never fully comfortable talking about prices. He tried to consider how he usually priced a piece so he could explain to Itachi that there really was no average cost for him. Sometimes a huge item would sell for significantly less than a single chair.
"I use a formula to do a pricing breakdown on my work. It's not about size unless the materials have to be found or purchased by size. I prefer to work with my found items. That being said? My custom work often calls for me to order the materials since I'm literally never going to find an eight-foot slab of granite on the beach. Or at least not unless I get OC'd if you know what I mean."
Mike was comfortable admitting the place they lived in was weird. Strange things happened there all the time. Usually they got some kind of explanation for it---but the explanations weren't always very convincing so it was easier to just go with it than question everything. He'd never cared much for the hows or whys anyway. Mike was a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Life was meant to be lived as it came; in the OC, it came strange.
It was what it was.
"This piece? It's almost 100% found parts which cost me nothing. It took me a few minutes here and there and then about two hours to completely piece together. I work on sanding as a hobby. I don't count that as labor hours. I priced it at $150 since that's a good price for my time and the detail involved. The most I've ever priced a piece at was $22,000. That piece was for a movie set and took me six weeks to complete. I literally did nothing else. I felt like I should have gotten a divorce settlement by the time I broke away from that piece. I price things fair. My installs are free unless I have to hire someone to come with me to help. I charge for their labor for that. Sorry. I know that's not a very good answer. It's just not as easy when it comes to art as it is when it comes to say---putting together an IKEA couch."
~*~
Itachi listened to Mike as he explained his position on how he priced things. Itachi thought it was fascinating to listen to different people explain their products, and the process that went into them. He thought highly of artists, and how they worked.
He was not an artist, and he would never claim to be one either. He enjoyed reading, he was not a writer by any stretch of the imagination, but he loved to appreciate other people's creativity.
With a shake of his head, Itachi offered Mike a soft smile. "No, that's understandable. It all depends upon the materials, and labor. I can understand that." Itachi knew that artists put their hearts into their work, and Mike was definitely an artist from what he could tell.
"I think what you do is admirable." Itachi responded with a nod, and he took in a deep breath. "Did you have anything else you wanted me to give my sightless opinion on?" Itachi was hopeful that the blindness business would pass eventually, he was quite tired of it, but if it didn't? He was going to have to make due with what he could and learn to adapt even further.
Itachi was good at adapting, both in his dreams and in his waking life. He had just not been expecting this turn of events when it came to his dreams.
~*~
"I think the way you're adjusting to the loss of one of your major senses is admirable. What I do isn't nearly the same. I'm just some guy trying to say something people remember with the one skill he's got. Other than dancing. I think I say a lot on a dance floor."
He hesitated a moment to ask Itachi about the desk, but it'd been a piece made specifically for a buyer who he really wanted to give the total package to because they deserved it. Mike didn't put more effort into a piece simply because he was going to get paid more for it. Every piece he made was loved while it was being crafted. His hands treated each and every installation with the respect they deserved.
Mike wanted to know if he'd gotten it right for this customer because they were counting on him to get it right for their special someone.
Clearing his throat, he said, "Actually yeah. I have a custom desk in the back. I made it to order for a man whose wife has a degenerative disease. She has to transfer from a wheelchair into the desk chair and be able to move the parts she needs to her since she can't reach for them. Everything has to be accessible for someone with limited range of motion. She's not blind exactly, but she can't control her head movement enough to have full range of motion. Think I could get you to sit in it and tell me if anything is out of proportion or needs to be sanded down more? I have nightmares about her getting a splinter or something which gets infected because I wasn't careful enough sanding it down."
~*~
A light smile tugged up one corner of Itachi's lips. "I've never been much of a dancer, but I believe that it is an admirable skill nonetheless and one that speaks volumes when words cannot." Again, Itachi could appreciate the arts and what they entailed even if he was not a very artistic person.
Itachi had never been one to lose sleep over his work, well not here, in the dreams that was an entirely different story. His job in the dreams was stressful, especially for a 13 year old child. Itachi wouldn't go into that though, and instead he gave a nod.
"Lead the way, I'm sure that your piece is perfect as it is and that you don't have to worry about any of that." He offered Mike a soft smile, ready and willing to give his opinion on this other piece that he had to show him. Heck, he'd stay for as long as Mike needed him to since he was so tired of being stuck inside and feeling useless.
~*~
"Thank you for your help, Itachi. I really appreciate this. I'll have to make something for your place to order in payment. I'm not exactly rolling in the dough, but my parts are almost all free since they're found or reclaimed from dumps and my time is my own."
Mike started walking Itachi back to the desk as he thought about how put together the guy was for someone in his situation. He'd likely have his clothes on backwards, inside out, and all mismatched. This guy looked better than Mike managed on good days. It was a weird world where a blind guy made out better than a guy who had all his senses available to him. No one could accuse Itachi Uchiha of not taking things with grace and honor.
He hoped the desk would be perfect so it'd be ready to go out for delivery. Mike wanted to get it to his customer not to get paid, but because he needed to know he'd done something to make the man's wife happier. Their life was hard enough with her wasting away while neither of them could do anything. The least Mike could do was make her everyday living a little easier with a new piece of furniture made only for her.
"Here's hoping I got this desk right, and if not? I'll take your criticism seriously so I can make it as good as it can be. We're making life easier one piece of furnishing art at a time, my new friend. We are doing good here!"
Doing good in a day was good enough for Mike Lane.