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Dialogue
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The nature of art is what shatters like diffuse reflection of radiance upon the irregular surfaces of fragmented mirror shards.
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It is labyrinthine, unpredictable, completely devoid of any plainly coherent pattern… and unfathomably beautiful.
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Because anything can be painted, and any sense of imagination brought forth to reality…
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… even things beyond our ken may be conceived and be used as inspiration through the lens of art created by others.
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Thus, choosing the Ring and the path of art was a decision most wise.
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Perhaps my life itself has been a living artistry from its incipience.
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My interests were as diverse as the seven colors of the light spectrum, fanning and radiating in all directions like shattering rays of diffuse reflection upon an irregular surface.
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Yet, the life of fixation with a single subject, technology… Sitting in conferences after conferences of mediocre, predictable 'discoveries'… That was never the kind of life I deserved.
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Thus it was by great fortune that the Pointillists approached me and thought to offer a place among their ranks.
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A universe of infinity held within a singular dot. Thus a collection of dots a collection of infinities does it become, a concentration of dots a concentration of universes; then birthed anew is yet another ineffably vast universe…
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The Pointillists create art I could behold and ponder for all eternity. My attraction to it must have been written afore it came to be.
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The graceful title of 'Student of the Ring' gave me fabricated wings of freedom and unbound my potential.
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What laughably witless days I have endured! My wings were there all along, only waiting to be painted into existence by my hands. My infantine, childish self could never have reached this understanding with his juvenile fascination with tinkering frivolous machine parts together.
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Ah… how regrettable they are, the days I have wasted in utter inanity.
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The days I have wasted away in a heedless haze, believing every mired hour I had spent there to be my fate.
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Thus wielded in my palms is my great brush; a tool with which I shall mold and transform my past.
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The pointless past is burned as sacrifice for art; what was once perceived to be of no worth is molded into beauty in an instant.
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I am but a Student of the Ring; yet, should I trace the steps of the Maestros who have created countless masterpieces… my very own skills shall grow to its apex ere long.
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Ah, my heart is now lightened. I should be able to participate in this 'assignment evaluation' with a mind unburdened.
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… It takes little time before I find myself at the evaluation site.
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A group of people stand uneasily among various revolting 'artwork' that inspire nothing but utter confusion.
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They plead and plead, knocking fervently at my heart so that their voices may be heard. Yet, to my ears, they are merely inaudible murmurs, nothing more than bothersome noise.
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The noise is likely an amalgamation of desperate attempts at receiving a passing grade…
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But they each receive a failing grade nonetheless.
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It is all pointless.
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Yet…
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Indeed, the lack of meaning signifies not the lack of answers.
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I gather the terrified civilians. Inform them that I shall now bequeath upon them a holistic critique of their works.
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Indeed. A critique of this 'collaborative' effort.
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Of course, each of their work is a result of individual effort. Yet, should their work be assisted by my artistic eye, unripe as it is, then…
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… it shall make for quite the excellent collaborative piece of art.
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Some of their faces contort with a clear look of bewilderment. Ah, a moment of utter ideality. A universally shared look of shock would have been so… plain.
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And with such joy, such delight…
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I wield my great paintbrush and rapidly pierce it into my ingredients, marking each of them with dots.
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Explosive splashes of red paint.
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Shock. Fear. Panic and desperation. I behold so, so many final sentiments fade as they drop to the cold floor in all of its unconscious amorphousness, with no more mind to guide the flesh.
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My heart swells with this excellent presentation; they have prepared for me such a beautiful collaborate effort where even I, as a mere spectator, was allowed to partake in its beauty.
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How could I give them anything else but a review most glowing?
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Thus I rate this artwork…
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A+.
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World of the Ring Identity Stories
