Private to Montatgue Morsusdeirdre_ivyFebruary 21 2007, 17:20:53 UTC
Yes, agreed. Perhaps we might renew our acquaintance at this terrifying Hogwarts celebration? Now I just need to find a dress.
Ah, maybe that's it! Too much selfishness, intellectualism, and sleeping about too many men: my brain is reverting to the shiny purity of youth as a means of self-preservation.
Private to Deirdre Burkemorsus_et_morsFebruary 21 2007, 17:28:22 UTC
We simply must, I do think. Although, Hogwarts might not be the best of places - I doubt I shall be attending the place. Perhaps some venue darker and more intellectual than that bubbling sphere of foolish optimism and bull-headed obstinacy inbred in both the big and the small.
Glad to have been of service to you, my dear, even if by clowning around.
Private to Montague Morsusdeirdre_ivyFebruary 21 2007, 17:41:55 UTC
The point is made and conceded; your assessment is fair enough. I saw a restaurant overlooking the Thames the other night. It was sort of a blackly indigo shade and had delicate hanging lanterns. I imagine people discuss all sorts of dark and intellectual things there.
Private to Deirdre Burkemorsus_et_morsFebruary 21 2007, 18:21:29 UTC
The place sounds decadent enough, Ms Burke. I should be overjoyed to see you there, when the rest of the Wizarding population is busy fraternizing with each other on the insipid fair.
Private to Montague Morsusdeirdre_ivyFebruary 22 2007, 10:44:16 UTC
Decadent? Oh, perhaps it is. Also--the way it sucked the sparkles of the river in to its cerulean depths intrigued me. So there's that attraction as well to pull us dark-moths.
As do I--why is that, do you think? There's a certain comfort in their reflection on a wet street.
Private to Deirdre Burkemorsus_et_morsFebruary 22 2007, 12:32:49 UTC
I like how you vest your thoughts into words, so carefully chosen-- all. Is there a sorting filter inside your cranium, Ms Burke? For I am rather sure I know very few women like yourself.
Perhaps they remind us of the blackness inside, and the irony of useless symbolism.
The gallery is going along well; although, I suppose were I making a living out of it, I would have been rather malnourished by now. You do realize there are not very many who take pleasure from visiting places that reassure them in their boundless ignorance.
Private to Montague Morsusdeirdre_ivyFebruary 24 2007, 07:41:33 UTC
I wish I knew what was in my brain.
That means a great deal, Mr. Morsus--though then, I'm not entirely sure what it means in the first place. Conversation with you is like raking the grey pebbles in a Zen garden around the fire trees. Each spontaneous thought emerges delicately and calculatingly.
Perhaps. They remind me of fish swimming above the meniscus, and of illumination benign and otherwise, metaphorical and otherwise.
Thank goodness there are individuals such as yourself willing to put such...philanthropic causes and passions at the forefront of their lives. For what you say is true: in the art world, I am a tottering babe compared to your reams of intricate knowledge.
Private to Deirdre Burkemorsus_et_morsFebruary 28 2007, 14:23:16 UTC
I shall be awaiting our meeting with barely held impatience. And while we are still on the topic: when precisely shall we meet? My time is completely at your disposal.
Mr. Morsus, it's been too long since we've spoken. Always a pleasure.
Burke
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Clouds and soap bubbles- an association with infantilism, perhaps? Although I, by no means, have neither the authority nor the experience to judge.
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Ah, maybe that's it! Too much selfishness, intellectualism, and sleeping about too many men: my brain is reverting to the shiny purity of youth as a means of self-preservation.
I think that actually made me laugh, Mr. Morsus.
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Glad to have been of service to you, my dear, even if by clowning around.
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You bring out the worst in me.
Burke
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I like lanterns.
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As do I--why is that, do you think? There's a certain comfort in their reflection on a wet street.
But I am rude! How is the gallery buzzing along?
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Perhaps they remind us of the blackness inside, and the irony of useless symbolism.
The gallery is going along well; although, I suppose were I making a living out of it, I would have been rather malnourished by now. You do realize there are not very many who take pleasure from visiting places that reassure them in their boundless ignorance.
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That means a great deal, Mr. Morsus--though then, I'm not entirely sure what it means in the first place. Conversation with you is like raking the grey pebbles in a Zen garden around the fire trees. Each spontaneous thought emerges delicately and calculatingly.
Perhaps. They remind me of fish swimming above the meniscus, and of illumination benign and otherwise, metaphorical and otherwise.
Thank goodness there are individuals such as yourself willing to put such...philanthropic causes and passions at the forefront of their lives. For what you say is true: in the art world, I am a tottering babe compared to your reams of intricate knowledge.
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Apologies for this late reply.
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