Opera houses should be a showcase of talent and skill as well as dedication. I would have no place in one, and others should be able to admit the same. My singing and harp playing is mediocre at best: I can barely hold a note for 16 seconds.
If people want to perform in such a place, they should earn it.
[ he can't really disagree with her on any of that, he just thinks sometimes (all the time) clea's standards are too high. for others, for herself more than anyone. ]
I've seen many mediocre musicians, you are not among them.
But I can't disagree with you on the rest of it. Perhaps your judgement is best saved until after you've seen them perform though.
[ Which had been so as she, unlike Verso, had not focused on music alone. So it is natural that he had been better. Clea understands that, but an objective assessment would nonetheless admit her craft is lacking.
It is frustrating. Clea does love music: Not the way Verso does, focused and all consuming, but as a process. Singing, the harp, and dancing allow for her to experience the music in such different ways she could never choose one alone. Any more than she could only Paint or sculpt. And yet there is never enough time. Even when she uses her practice Canvas to forego sleep and stretch out time, there's never enough for everything.
A minute she spends dancing is a minute she does not Paint. A minute she Paints is a minute she does not sing.
Her limitations have always filled her with despair, and her awareness of them is especially keen now.]
Is this a trick? You tell me to go with full knowledge I will hate it?
A lot of people are when I'm the other collaborator.
[ once again he finds himself at the same crossroads, to be honest or to be his easily digestible self? clea would see through the latter, she often does, but that doesn't mean she'd contest him on it. he could easily laugh it off, tell her he simply wants to see her annoyed by the heat and the overly familiar people, but there is so much in this world that she wants to see and experience, and more than anyone he knows, clea deserves that. deserves it for herself, without the burden of family on her shoulders. ]
You've always wanted to see the world, that means the things you'll hate along with the things you love. You deserve to experience it all.
Yes. They can live up to 100 years and they have no fear of people. There are also cormorants, flamingos, and ghost crabs.
I would also like to see a parrot.
[ Birds that speak. How delightful they would be. Clea has always been fond of animals; they are never disappointed by you.
Having this conversation gives her the same feeling as her and Verso sneaking out of their rooms after hours as children. As though she is engaging in something mildly forbidden, though of course there is nobody to forbid her. She finds herself torn in two by her desires: To step up and be who her family needs her to be, and to explore and live her own life.
How can she debate leaving them after all they've suffered? How can she not, knowing how little she's in their thoughts? ]
I have to admit, there is a part of me that wants to see a parrot with your same withering gaze and judgmental tone.
[ if he focuses on the wonders, the joy she could find, maybe it would make it easier for her to convince herself to go do something. anything. even if it's only for a year or two before the guilt catches up with her, that would be worth it. ]
A flock of parrots, armed with stinging barbs and sharp beaks. I can think of little more fearsome or impressive.
[ the mental image is strong enough that it makes him miss painting; clea under a canopy of trees, tropical light making her luminous, a flock of brightly coloured birds that adore her and hate everyone else. maybe he'll work on it anyway. it won't be up to her standards, but verso thinks she'd appreciate the gesture regardless, even if she'd never admit it. ]
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bakerstreet2025-07-11 11:35 am
I feel like Alicia's the stealth gremlin here
We can fill the Louvre with finger paintings.
she would write the most incredible shitposts the world ever saw
Unquestionably
Opera houses should be a showcase of talent and skill as well as dedication. I would have no place in one, and others should be able to admit the same. My singing and harp playing is mediocre at best: I can barely hold a note for 16 seconds.
If people want to perform in such a place, they should earn it.
no subject
I've seen many mediocre musicians, you are not among them.
But I can't disagree with you on the rest of it. Perhaps your judgement is best saved until after you've seen them perform though.
no subject
[ Which had been so as she, unlike Verso, had not focused on music alone. So it is natural that he had been better. Clea understands that, but an objective assessment would nonetheless admit her craft is lacking.
It is frustrating. Clea does love music: Not the way Verso does, focused and all consuming, but as a process. Singing, the harp, and dancing allow for her to experience the music in such different ways she could never choose one alone. Any more than she could only Paint or sculpt. And yet there is never enough time. Even when she uses her practice Canvas to forego sleep and stretch out time, there's never enough for everything.
A minute she spends dancing is a minute she does not Paint. A minute she Paints is a minute she does not sing.
Her limitations have always filled her with despair, and her awareness of them is especially keen now.]
Is this a trick? You tell me to go with full knowledge I will hate it?
no subject
[ once again he finds himself at the same crossroads, to be honest or to be his easily digestible self? clea would see through the latter, she often does, but that doesn't mean she'd contest him on it. he could easily laugh it off, tell her he simply wants to see her annoyed by the heat and the overly familiar people, but there is so much in this world that she wants to see and experience, and more than anyone he knows, clea deserves that. deserves it for herself, without the burden of family on her shoulders. ]
You've always wanted to see the world, that means the things you'll hate along with the things you love. You deserve to experience it all.
no subject
[ Enjoy the compliment. She will not be repeating it.
Hmm.
He isn't wrong.
How annoying. ]
That is true. Hatred refines taste as much as inspiration.
I want to go to the Galapagos.
no subject
To see the tortoises?
no subject
I would also like to see a parrot.
[ Birds that speak. How delightful they would be. Clea has always been fond of animals; they are never disappointed by you.
Having this conversation gives her the same feeling as her and Verso sneaking out of their rooms after hours as children. As though she is engaging in something mildly forbidden, though of course there is nobody to forbid her. She finds herself torn in two by her desires: To step up and be who her family needs her to be, and to explore and live her own life.
How can she debate leaving them after all they've suffered? How can she not, knowing how little she's in their thoughts? ]
no subject
[ if he focuses on the wonders, the joy she could find, maybe it would make it easier for her to convince herself to go do something. anything. even if it's only for a year or two before the guilt catches up with her, that would be worth it. ]
no subject
[ There are worse things to be than 'the parrot lady'. She could be someone's wife.]
no subject
[ the mental image is strong enough that it makes him miss painting; clea under a canopy of trees, tropical light making her luminous, a flock of brightly coloured birds that adore her and hate everyone else. maybe he'll work on it anyway. it won't be up to her standards, but verso thinks she'd appreciate the gesture regardless, even if she'd never admit it. ]
no subject
[ Said, of course, with admiration rather than fear. Birds are fierce, free creatures. Clea admires them. ]
A dozen would be a good number. There should not be so many I cannot give them individual attention.