Private Quiet Galleries

[Meri Vale]

The exhibition had been advertised across several universities as a collaborative project between local artists, historians, and the museum itself. Admission was free for students, an arrangement Meri suspected existed solely because it was considerably easier to convince students to visit museums voluntarily if they did not have to pay first.

She had come expecting paintings. Instead she found history.

The exhibition, titled Cities Remember, occupied several galleries devoted to architecture, landscapes, and historical reconstruction. Ancient temples stood beside modern skylines, carefully researched recreations hung beside imaginative interpretations, while recovered fragments of masonry, decorative carvings, and architectural drawings accompanied many of the works. It was less an art exhibition than a conversation between artists and historians, each attempting to reconstruct places that no longer existed in quite the same form.

Meri moved slowly from one display to the next, lingering far longer than most visitors. She rarely looked only at the painting itself. Instead, her attention drifted toward the accompanying notes, restoration sketches, excavation photographs, and architectural references. Every so often the corner of her mouth would twitch as she quietly approved of a particularly careful reconstruction or mentally corrected one that had taken an understandable artistic liberty.

Eventually she stopped before a large painting depicting one of Bastion's older districts before decades of conflict had scarred it. It was beautifully rendered, the afternoon light spilling across weathered stone and narrow streets with remarkable warmth. For several quiet moments she simply admired it before tilting her head ever so slightly.

"The masonry on the western façade is from a later restoration..." she murmured almost to herself, more thoughtful than critical. "...but the light is exactly how it would have looked."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon had not come because he was a university student. He had come because wherever people gathered to preserve beauty, he almost always found himself wandering in eventually. The exhibition felt less like a museum and more like stepping through someone's memory. Every gallery offered another place rescued from oblivion, if only in pigment and stone. Solon moved at an unhurried pace, sketchbook tucked beneath one arm though he had yet to open it. Instead he simply looked.

He gave every display its due, lingering before each long enough to appreciate the choices the artist had made, but the pieces that held him longest were not necessarily the most technically impressive. They were the ones willing to indulge in a little imagination—reconstructed gardens whose flowers might never have bloomed quite that way, idealized skylines touched by sunsets perhaps brighter than history remembered, or architectural studies that hinted at what a ruined archway might once have become. They reminded him that memory was not only preservation. Sometimes it was hope.

The large painting of Bastion drew him next. He studied the warm stonework, the narrow streets, and the cascade of afternoon light spilling between the buildings. Before long another voice, quiet and thoughtful, reached him.

"The masonry on the western façade is from a later restoration... but the light is exactly how it would have looked."

Solon glanced toward the young woman standing nearby before returning his eyes to the canvas. "I think you're right." His tone carried no certainty, only quiet admiration.

"I wouldn't have noticed the masonry at all." A faint, self-conscious smile tugged at his lips. "Architecture has always been... adjacent to my interests."

His lavender eyes drifted back across the painting. "But the light..." He paused, searching for words worthy of the image before him. "...it feels remembered instead of invented."

He tilted his head ever so slightly. "The buildings tell you where you are." His gaze lingered on the glow washing over the weathered stone. "The sunlight tells you what it was like to be there."

Solon let the silence settle for a moment, reluctant to disturb either the painting or the stranger's contemplation. "I suppose that's the part that reaches me most," he admitted softly. "Even if every stone were perfectly accurate, without that warmth it would only be a record. This..." His eyes remained fixed on the canvas. "...this feels like someone missing a place."

 

[Meri Vale]

For a few moments Meri simply studied the painting again, this time following the path of the sunlight rather than the stonework. It was curious how quickly his observation had shifted her attention. She still noticed the later masonry, the slightly altered proportions of one corner building, the liberties the artist had taken with a decorative cornice. Yet now those details seemed almost secondary to the warmth spilling between the narrow streets.

"I don't think I've ever thought about it that way," she admitted after a thoughtful silence. "When I look at something like this, I'm usually trying to determine whether it could have existed. Whether the construction techniques are consistent, whether the restoration is plausible..." She paused, considering the painting with renewed curiosity. "You're asking a different question."

Only then did she glance toward him properly, noticing the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm. The observation immediately answered several questions she had not yet asked. "You see the experience before the evidence," she said, not as criticism but as quiet realization. "I suppose that's why you noticed the light before the buildings."

Her gray eyes returned to the canvas. "History spends a great deal of time trying to establish what happened." A faint smile appeared. "Art seems more interested in asking what it felt like." She let the thought settle for a moment before adding, with the slightest trace of dry humor, "I suspect the two disciplines would argue with one another endlessly if they were people."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon's cheeks warmed ever so slightly at her admission. A shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he looked back toward the painting, grateful for the excuse not to maintain eye contact for too long. "I... suppose I have a habit of doing that." His fingers shifted unconsciously against the edge of the sketchbook beneath his arm. "I almost always ignore the practical in favor of the idealistic." There was no pride in the confession—only quiet acceptance, as though it were both a strength and a flaw he had long since stopped trying to separate.

When she spoke of history and art arguing endlessly, a soft laugh escaped him. "I think they probably would." His lavender eyes lingered on the warm glow painted across the city before continuing. "But I also think they'd be forever partners." He glanced toward her again, finding it a little easier this time.

"History gives art something real to build upon. Without it..." he gestured lightly toward the canvas, "...beauty risks becoming untethered." His gaze drifted back to the weathered streets captured in paint.

"And history, without someone willing to dream a little..." A thoughtful pause settled between them. "It would become rather bland. We'd know what happened, but perhaps never understand why anyone loved those places enough to remember them."

He smiled faintly. "I think idealism keeps history alive. It reminds us that these weren't simply collections of stone and measurements. They were homes. Streets people wandered. Windows someone looked through every morning."

Only after the thought had settled did he realize they had been speaking for several minutes without introductions. His ears reddened ever so slightly. "Oh—I'm sorry." He offered a small, almost embarrassed smile. "I'm Solon. Solon Rey."

He gave a polite incline of his head, the manners of an old Core upbringing surfacing as naturally as breathing. "It's nice to meet someone who notices details I'd never even thought to look for."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri found herself smiling, small but genuine, as Solon described history and art as partners rather than rivals. It was not an argument she had encountered before, yet the more she considered it, the more it settled comfortably into place. She had spent years learning how civilizations were built, expanded, and eventually forgotten. Rarely had she stopped to consider why those places continued to matter after the people themselves were gone. His answer did not contradict her own understanding. It completed a part of it she had never realized was missing.

"I think you're right," she said thoughtfully, turning back toward the painting. "Archaeology spends a great deal of effort trying to reconstruct the physical world. We measure walls, catalog foundations, compare construction techniques..." A faint smile touched her lips. "But none of those things explain why someone chose to sit beneath a particular window every evening, or why a street became someone's favorite route home. The evidence tells us what survived. It rarely tells us what was loved."

When Solon apologized for forgetting introductions, she let out the quietest hint of a laugh. "I was beginning to think we might spend the entire afternoon discussing the painting without ever learning each other's names." She offered him a polite smile that carried none of the practiced formality of diplomacy, only quiet sincerity. "I'm Meri. Meri Vale. It's nice to meet you, Solon."

Her eyes drifted briefly to the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm before returning to him. She continued with gentle honesty, "I don't think noticing different details is a disadvantage. If everyone observed the same things, we'd only ever ask the same questions." She glanced back toward the painting once more, the warm afternoon light seeming subtly different now than it had only a few minutes earlier. "I probably would have walked away still thinking about the masonry." The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. "Now I'll probably remember the sunlight too."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

A quiet laugh escaped Solon before he could stop it. "So the archaeologist becomes the philosopher." The words left his mouth lightly, almost teasing, before his expression shifted to mild alarm.

"I... um..." His ears colored a noticeable pink. "I'm sorry—I assumed archaeology because of what you said about reconstruction and masonry. If I've completely misread that, please pretend I didn't." He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before letting his hand fall away.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Meri." There was an easy sincerity to the words. It was nice, he realized, to speak with someone who could appreciate beauty from such a different perspective without dismissing his own.

When she spoke of asking different questions, Solon nodded enthusiastically. "I couldn't agree more." His gaze wandered briefly around the gallery, where visitors drifted from piece to piece at their own pace. "If everyone thought alike..." A faint grin crossed his face. "...it would make for a terribly boring galaxy." His tone carried just enough playfulness to soften the observation. "There'd be no surprises. No one to point out the things we'd overlooked."

He looked back toward the painting one last time before turning to Meri. "How much of the exhibition have you seen already?" His fingers tapped lightly against the spine of the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm. "And..." He hesitated for only a heartbeat, smiling with quiet hope. "If you don't mind the company, perhaps I could return the favor."

He gestured toward the adjoining galleries. "You can continue teaching me how buildings tell their stories..." A faint sparkle appeared in his amethyst eyes. "...and I'll see if I can convince you that every painting has its own sunlight waiting to be noticed."

 

[Meri Vale]

The alarm that spread across Solon's face caught Meri completely by surprise. For a heartbeat, she simply stared at him before a soft laugh escaped her, warm enough to dissolve any awkwardness before it had the chance to settle. "No, you didn't misread anything," she assured him, still smiling. "I'm studying archaeology at the Academy on Naboo." A hint of amusement lingered in her gray eyes. "Though I don't think anyone has ever called me a philosopher before. I'm fairly certain my professors would insist I'm simply asking too many questions."

She looked back toward the painting, considering everything they had discussed over the past several minutes. It struck her that, despite approaching the same canvas from entirely different directions, they had somehow arrived at the same place. She had begun by examining the structure beneath the image while he had begun with the feeling it inspired, yet neither perspective had diminished the other. Instead they had quietly woven together into something richer. It was...pleasant. Unexpectedly so.

"It would be a terribly boring galaxy," she agreed, her smile widening just enough to betray how much she enjoyed the thought. "Imagine an excavation where everyone noticed the same broken wall, or a gallery where everyone admired the exact same brushstroke. We'd stop discovering things about the world..." Her gaze drifted toward the visitors wandering between displays before returning to Solon. "...and probably stop discovering things about each other, too."

His invitation drew her attention back to the sketchbook tucked beneath his arm, then to the hopeful expression he wore. There was something wonderfully earnest about it, free of expectation, offered simply because he thought they might enjoy seeing the rest of the exhibition together. Meri found herself smiling before she had consciously decided to. "I'd like that." She stepped away from the painting at an unhurried pace, glancing toward the adjoining gallery. "Although I should warn you..." There was the faintest glimmer of mischief in her voice now. "If I start talking about construction methods, you'll have to stop me before I accidentally turn the exhibition into a lecture." Looking back at him, she tipped her head ever so slightly. "And in return, you have my permission to point out every bit of sunlight I would have walked straight past."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

The tension that had crept into Solon's shoulders melted away with Meri's laugh. He let out a small sigh of relief, a sheepish smile following close behind. "I'm glad I wasn't completely inventing a profession for you." His expression brightened. "Though perhaps archaeologists and philosophers aren't all that far apart."

He considered the thought for a moment. "I've always imagined philosophy is mostly asking questions that very few people in the galaxy are actually capable of answering." There was no teasing in the statement now, only quiet admiration.

As Meri turned her attention back to the painting, Solon found himself watching not the artwork, but the subtle change in her expression. It fascinated him to see someone genuinely reconsidering something they had already examined so carefully. She wasn't abandoning what she knew; she was simply making room for another way of seeing. It was... refreshing.

He had met more than a few students over the past year who treated their discipline like a fortress, every conclusion carefully defended against anything that threatened to complicate it. Meri seemed to do the opposite. She welcomed complication.

When she remarked that people would stop discovering things about one another, Solon gave an approving nod. "I think that's already a little true."

His smile softened. "It's a sorry thing when people become so convinced their own perspective is the only correct one that they stop listening altogether." His lavender eyes wandered briefly around the gallery. "The galaxy is far too large for any one person to see all of it."

The warmth returned immediately when she accepted his invitation. "It'll be nice having someone to walk through it with." As Meri began her warning, Solon's hopeful smile faltered. His brows lifted ever so slightly. A warning?

For one dreadful heartbeat his imagination leapt to all manner of terrible possibilities. Perhaps she disliked crowds. Perhaps she intended to scrutinize every display for hours. Perhaps—"If I start talking about construction methods..."

His worry vanished so quickly it left behind only an amused laugh. A light giggle escaped him. "Oh." He smiled, shaking his head. "I don't think that'll send me running."

He adjusted the sketchbook beneath his arm as they began toward the next gallery. "Structure isn't foreign to artists." His fingers rested thoughtfully along the worn cover. "I sketch, but I also write poetry... and compose music when inspiration is kind enough to visit."

His smile became almost bashful. "All three need structure before they can become anything meaningful. Rhythm. Meter. Composition. Perspective." He gave a small shrug. "Even the most emotional piece usually rests on a very practical foundation."

He glanced toward her. "So if you begin explaining why a particular arch could support a roof for centuries, or why an entire district was planned the way it was..." Another quiet laugh. "I promise I won't flee."

His violet eyes drifted toward the next display waiting beyond the doorway. "And if I notice you becoming a little too absorbed in the engineering..." He smiled warmly. "...I'll simply point out whatever feeling I think the artist was trying to preserve."

There was a gentle confidence in the offer now. "Between the two of us, perhaps we'll manage to see the whole picture."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri listened with quiet attention as Solon spoke, finding herself increasingly intrigued by the ease with which he moved between different forms of art. Sketching had made sense the moment she'd noticed the well-used book tucked beneath his arm, but poetry and music had come as a surprise. She had always thought of them as separate pursuits, each requiring years of devotion on their own. To hear him speak of them as though they naturally belonged together made her wonder if artists viewed creativity the same way archaeologists viewed history, not as isolated subjects, but as different pieces of the same story.

"I never really thought about it that way," she admitted as they wandered into the next gallery. Her eyes lingered briefly on a sculpture before returning to him. "I suppose every discipline has its framework. An excavation has methodology. History has chronology. I just...never considered that music and poetry have an architecture of their own." She smiled thoughtfully. "It makes sense, though. If they didn't, they'd probably feel as though they were missing something, even if you couldn't explain exactly what."

His promise not to run at the mention of engineering earned another quiet laugh. "That's reassuring. Most people politely endure about five minutes before their eyes start searching for the nearest exit." She folded her hands behind her back as they slowed before another display, her gaze moving naturally across its details before lingering on the accompanying placard. "I should probably return the warning, then. If you start explaining rhythm and composition, I'll almost certainly ask enough questions to make you regret bringing them up." There was no apology in her voice, only the easy honesty of someone who knew curiosity was simply part of who she was.

She grew quiet for a moment, considering his final thought before looking back toward him with a gentle smile. "I think I'd like that." The words escaped before she had time to overthink them. She glanced toward the next painting, feeling unexpectedly at ease walking beside someone who seemed just as interested in learning as he was in teaching. "Not because I think either of us will see the whole picture," she amended softly. "I'm not sure anyone can." Her eyes settled on the painting ahead, already wondering what he would notice before she did. "But I think we'll both leave having seen more than we would have alone."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon listened with the quiet attentiveness that seemed to come naturally to him, his smile never quite leaving as Meri drew parallels between music, poetry, and archaeology. He gave a thoughtful nod. "I think that's exactly it." His gaze wandered over the next display without yet truly seeing it, his mind still lingering on the conversation.

"Some artists would probably disagree with me." A soft chuckle escaped him. "There are those who say certain kinds of music or painting have no structure at all—that they're simply expressions of pure inspiration." He tilted his head ever so slightly.

"But even then..." His fingers brushed absentmindedly over the cover of his sketchbook. "...a painting begins with a canvas, charcoal, pigment, or stone. Music begins with an instrument, or perhaps a voice... sometimes several woven together." A thoughtful warmth entered his expression. "The soul of the creator may carry the work anywhere it wishes, but those choices have already created a foundation. Even freedom starts somewhere."

He glanced toward her, pleased to see she genuinely seemed interested in the idea. Her next remark drew another quiet laugh from him. "Only five minutes?" He smiled sympathetically. "I don't think you'll have that problem with me." His voice held easy confidence—not arrogance, simply certainty. "I tend to find art in just about everything."

His eyes drifted across the carved frame surrounding the next painting. "There really isn't much chance of you boring me." When Meri warned that she'd ask endless questions about rhythm and composition, Solon laughed again, the sound light and genuine. "I should hope so."

He looked at her with quiet sincerity. "Without questions, we'd learn very little." A brief pause. "Not just about the artwork..." His smile softened. "...about each other, too."

The admission came naturally, almost before he'd realized he intended to say it. "I'm rather hoping that's what today becomes." He gestured lightly around the gallery. "Learning about the exhibition..." His lavender eyes met hers for a brief moment. "...and getting to know you while we do."

There was no pressure behind the words, only earnestness.

When she spoke of neither of them ever seeing the entire picture, Solon nodded in agreement. "I think I'd be disappointed if I ever understood a work of art completely." He turned his attention at last toward the painting before them. "There should always be something left unsaid."

His eyes traveled slowly across the composition. The piece depicted a broad public square at dawn, the first light spilling over towering facades while only a handful of figures crossed its expansive stones. The architecture dominated the canvas, imposing and meticulously rendered, yet the people were painted almost as afterthoughts. Solon stood quietly for several moments. Then he smiled.

"The first thing I notice..." He raised a hand, indicating one of the small figures near the edge of the square. "...is that everyone looks as though they're walking away from the sunrise." His head tilted thoughtfully.

"It makes the city feel grand..." A faint melancholy entered his voice. "...but it also makes it feel lonely." His eyes lingered on the tiny silhouettes. "It's beautiful, but no one seems to have stopped to enjoy the morning." He smiled to himself. "I wonder if the artist meant that... or if it's simply what I wanted to find."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri listened quietly, finding herself smiling more with every passing moment. There was something wonderfully reassuring about the way Solon spoke. He never dismissed another perspective, even when he offered one of his own. Instead, he seemed to gather ideas together, fitting them alongside one another until they formed something larger.

"I like that," she said softly. "That even freedom has a foundation."

Her eyes drifted to the sketchbook beneath his fingers before returning to the paintings surrounding them.

"I suppose archaeology is the same." A thoughtful smile touched her lips. "People sometimes imagine we're searching for answers, but really we're searching for enough pieces to ask better questions."

His hope that today would become a chance to learn about one another warmed her more than she expected. It was such an uncomplicated thing to say, free of expectation or pretense. She met his lavender eyes for a brief moment before a faint blush encouraged her attention back toward the painting.

"I...I'd like that too."

The artwork drew her in as she let herself stand in silence beside him. She followed the lines of the buildings first, tracing the careful geometry that seemed almost impossibly precise before her gaze finally settled upon the tiny figures scattered throughout the square.

She smiled when he pointed out that they were all walking away from the sunrise.

"I don't think I would've noticed that." There was admiration rather than embarrassment in her voice. "I was too distracted by the buildings."

Her eyes lingered on the towering facades.

"The artist spent so much time making them feel permanent." She paused, considering the contrast. "The people almost disappear beside them."

She folded her hands loosely in front of herself.

"It's funny..." she murmured. "You saw loneliness." Her gaze remained on the canvas. "I think I saw memory." She tilted her head ever so slightly.

"Buildings are strange that way. They outlive almost everyone who ever walks through them. We restore temples that have stood for thousands of years, but we rarely know the names of the people who built them, or who crossed their courtyards every morning."

A gentle smile returned as she looked back toward Solon.

"Maybe that's why I like ruins so much." Her expression brightened with quiet enthusiasm. "They remind me that history isn't really about the stones. It's about trying to imagine the people who left them behind."

She looked back to the painting one last time.

"I wonder if that's why the people are so small." A thoughtful pause followed. "Not because they aren't important...but because the city is remembering them long after they're gone."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon's smile lingered as Meri spoke. "People sometimes imagine we're searching for answers, but really we're searching for enough pieces to ask better questions." He quietly committed the sentence to memory. It sounded like something that belonged in a journal.

As they moved deeper into the gallery, the paintings gradually became less important than he had expected them to be. Not because they lacked beauty. Quite the opposite. Each piece had become an excuse to watch someone else's mind at work.

Every so often he found himself stealing another glance toward Meri before returning his attention to whatever canvas stood before them. There was an earnestness to the way she looked at things, a curiosity entirely free of vanity. She seemed almost incapable of pretending to know more than she did, and equally incapable of resisting the desire to know more.

He realized, somewhat to his embarrassment, that he had begun anticipating her observations before forming his own. It was... nice. More than nice. There was a quiet warmth beginning to grow inside him, innocent enough that he barely recognized it for what it was. Like an eager loth-cat discovering a new companion, he simply found himself wanting to keep walking beside her.

Her thoughts on the painting drew him back from his own wandering reflections. He looked at the canvas again. Then at Meri. Then back again. A thoughtful smile spread across his face. "I think..."

He paused, considering both perspectives together. "I don't think we disagreed at all." His eyes drifted once more to the tiny figures disappearing into the streets. "I saw loneliness because everyone was walking away." He lifted his gaze toward the towering buildings. "You saw memory because the city remained." A quiet breath escaped him. "But perhaps those are the same story."

He stepped just a little closer to the painting, careful not to crowd the viewing space. "The city remembers..." His finger hovered—not pointing directly at the artwork, but tracing the broad lines of the architecture through the air. "...because the people are gone." His voice grew softer. "And it feels lonely because memory always belongs to something that's no longer here."

He smiled faintly, as though the realization had surprised even him. "I was focused on the people." He looked toward the buildings. "You were focused on what survived."

Then his lavender eyes returned to Meri. "Together..." Another warm smile. "...we noticed that neither really exists without the other."

He let the thought settle between them before adding, almost sheepishly, "I think that's becoming a habit." His fingers found the edge of his sketchbook again. "You'll point out something that has endured." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "And somehow I'll start wondering who laughed there... who waited for someone at that corner... who hurried home before the rain."

He glanced once more at the painting. "I suppose that's why art like this works." His smile softened. "It invites two strangers to stand in front of the same canvas..." His eyes met hers for a brief, lingering moment. "...and somehow leave seeing more than either of them could have managed alone."

 

[Meri Vale]

Meri found herself smiling as Solon spoke, not because she had been proven right, but because he hadn't tried to decide whose interpretation was better. Somehow, he had simply picked up both ideas and held them together until they made something neither of them had noticed alone. It felt...easy. The kind of conversation where neither person had to defend their thoughts, only share them.

"I think you're right," she said quietly. "They are the same story." Her eyes returned to the painting, lingering on the tiny figures crossing the square. "Maybe that's what makes history so difficult." A thoughtful smile crossed her face. "You can spend years studying the same place, and then someone asks a question you never thought to ask."

She looked over at him as he admitted that it was becoming a habit. A soft laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

"I was just thinking the same thing."

There was a hint of surprise in her own voice, as though she'd only realized it while saying it aloud.

"I keep noticing things because you point them out first." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear almost absentmindedly. "Usually when I look at paintings, I spend all my time wondering whether the architecture is accurate, or if the artist changed something because it looked nicer." She glanced back toward the canvas with an amused smile. "I don't think I've ever stopped to wonder whether anyone in the painting was lonely."

Her gaze drifted slowly across the gallery, taking in the other visitors quietly wandering from one work to the next before settling once more on the painting before them.

"I think that's my favorite part about learning." Her voice softened, thoughtful rather than excited. "Not finding answers..." She smiled faintly. "Finding someone who notices things you'll probably never see on your own."

For a moment she simply stood beside him in comfortable silence, looking at the painting with fresh eyes.

"I wonder..." she murmured. "If the artist knew people would still be standing here talking about this years later."

A small smile returned as she looked over at Solon.

"If they did...I think they'd be happy we disagreed first."

Solon Rey

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Take in the artistry
Location: Cities Remember exhibit
Outfit: Simple Outfit
Tags: Meri Vale

Solon's expression softened as Meri spoke of all the questions a place could leave behind. A quiet sigh escaped him. For a moment, he wasn't looking at the painted city at all. He was thinking about Coruscant. How many stories could that world tell? The jewel of the galaxy, some called it. The center of civilization. The place from which governments proclaimed themselves rulers of stars they might never personally see. That distinction had made Coruscant desirable for thousands upon thousands of years.

And desirable things were fought over. Governments rose. Governments fell. Flags changed. Armies marched through the same streets that generations before them had sworn would stand forever. Somewhere among those countless stories was his own. Solon pushed the thought gently aside.

When he looked back toward Meri, she was tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His attention caught upon the simple motion. For reasons he couldn't have explained, he watched for a heartbeat longer than necessary. There wasn't anything remarkable about someone moving their hair. Yet somehow—

Solon blinked and redirected his attention toward the painting before she could notice him staring. "I think sometimes the artist changes things without even knowing they're doing it." His voice returned to that thoughtful cadence that came so easily when discussing art. "You mentioned wondering whether the artist altered the architecture because it looked nicer. Sometimes that's deliberate, certainly. Composition can demand things reality doesn't provide."

He considered the towering structures again. "But sometimes I think reality simply bends a little on the way through the artist." A small smile touched his lips. "That's the soul entering the work."

Solon gestured lightly toward the painted city. "To someone cataloging this place, those buildings might be brick and mortar. Steel and wood. Measurements, construction methods, dates..." His lavender eyes flickered toward Meri with an amused smile. "All those things I'm relying upon you to explain to me." Then he looked back at the painting.

"But the artist remembers how enormous the buildings felt when they stood beneath them. Or how warm the stone looked at sunset. Maybe a doorway reminds them of someone they loved. Maybe one particular street always felt lonely." His expression became more thoughtful. "So when they paint it, those feelings get mixed into the brick and mortar whether they intend them to or not."

Meri's question about what the artist would think of them standing here years later earned a quiet hum from Solon. "Hmmm." Then came a small, mischievous smirk. "I think it depends upon the artist."

He shifted his sketchbook beneath his arm. "Most artists know people will interpret their work, but I don't think we're actually creating it for some hypothetical person standing in a gallery years later. At least..." His eyebrows rose. "...I don't." He chuckled softly. "But the really good artists—and the ones with absolutely enormous egos—probably expect exactly this."

Solon gestured between Meri and himself. "Fifty people standing here and discovering fifty completely different meanings." His smirk widened. "The ones with enormous egos will tell all fifty people they're wrong." He gave a quiet laugh. "The good artist will probably be delighted."

His expression softened as he regarded the painting again. "Because they managed to put one feeling into something and somehow inspire fifty more." His gaze moved from the canvas toward Meri. "I think that's what I'd want." There was a touch of vulnerability in the admission.

"If something I made ever ended up hanging somewhere like this, I wouldn't want someone to tell me they'd figured out exactly what I meant." Solon smiled. "I'd much rather hear what they found in it."

His lavender eyes lingered on hers for just a moment. "Especially if it was something I'd never noticed myself."