a human likeness
Objectively speaking, her drafting of landscapes and buildings showed a spark of real talent. Her life drawings, on the other hand, could not be classed as anything but abysmal. For as well as she read people and was able to be helpful in parsing their problems, she still could not seem to translate the cues that gave meanings to their actions onto the page. She supposed her habit of looking at them as a collection of thoughts and emotions rather than physical bodies to be the cause, and hoped that practice would - as the adage Cameron had been fond of encouraging her with held out - make perfect.
If she learned to see them as bodies - all of them, and not just those few with whom she was intimate - perhaps it would help her comfort in relating to them as peers as well. To that end, she had signed up for art classes, offered her assistance to the Psych Office, and begun doing some physical training with Dick in the evenings, but so far, it bore very little fruit.
As evidenced by the current drawing of Dick walking around on his hands that looked rather more like a monkey on stilts, and captured none of his grace or charm. Naturally, since he never held still unless frightened, sleeping or nude and possibly not even then, he made a rather poor subject.
"Shoo," she told him, to which she was treated to his most boyish pout. At her arched eyebrow, he laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek which she neither accepted nor refused, and hurried off to what she assumed to be his next training session.
Sighing lightly after him, Morgan tore the sheet off the top of her sketchpad, and set it next to her thigh to begin anew. When someone chanced near, she glanced up and offered a mild smile. "I find myself temporarily without a subject to draw. Although I cannot promise even a passing likeness, would you be so kind as to permit me to make the attempt?"
[Set outside the Compound, most of the day. Good time to meet her or catch up with her. Dick's technically gone, but if you need to catch up with him, ping me. All tags, LT/ST welcome and accepted through til Saturday.]
If she learned to see them as bodies - all of them, and not just those few with whom she was intimate - perhaps it would help her comfort in relating to them as peers as well. To that end, she had signed up for art classes, offered her assistance to the Psych Office, and begun doing some physical training with Dick in the evenings, but so far, it bore very little fruit.
As evidenced by the current drawing of Dick walking around on his hands that looked rather more like a monkey on stilts, and captured none of his grace or charm. Naturally, since he never held still unless frightened, sleeping or nude and possibly not even then, he made a rather poor subject.
"Shoo," she told him, to which she was treated to his most boyish pout. At her arched eyebrow, he laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek which she neither accepted nor refused, and hurried off to what she assumed to be his next training session.
Sighing lightly after him, Morgan tore the sheet off the top of her sketchpad, and set it next to her thigh to begin anew. When someone chanced near, she glanced up and offered a mild smile. "I find myself temporarily without a subject to draw. Although I cannot promise even a passing likeness, would you be so kind as to permit me to make the attempt?"
[Set outside the Compound, most of the day. Good time to meet her or catch up with her. Dick's technically gone, but if you need to catch up with him, ping me. All tags, LT/ST welcome and accepted through til Saturday.]