Crystallon
Legacy Name: Crystallon

The Multi-Media Artist

AutumnMoon and I aspired to be artists the day we pinky-swore to be best friends forever. It was our third week of kindergarten and we had already bonded over a mutual love of sugar coated candy stars and My Little Hikeis.

Autumn was content to learn about color balance and brush stroke thickness, painting everything from classical portraits to sweeping landscapes. Mere paint was never enough for me. I had to challenge tradition, sticking feathers and bits of colored plastic into the paint before it dried to give flat images a whole new effect. I had to try combining neon pink cubes with bits of aluminum and green pom-poms because it was bold and original and totally outside the box. I would hang my head when teachers docked me points for not following instructions. The ones that gave me extra credit for creativity were my secret crushes, destined to have their yearbook portraits framed in hand-drawn pink hearts. (Though even there I would stick on a few gemstone stickers.)

I never envied Autumn's fast rise to fame. My path had many more u-turns, dead ends and wrong way signs. I don't care to think about how many politely worded rejections I received from traditional galleries after staying up three nights in a row to put together a presentation. Illusion was just a kitten at the time, her edges fading in and out of sight as she listened to my nightly rants of stuffy old critics with no vision.

Sharing my art with the world meant more to me than anything else ever could. I knew that I would find a way, even when I was on the brink of taking a job at Quick Bites to keep food on the table.

A card arrived in the mail one day, signed only as Fresh Idea Enthusiast. It was an invitation to a local street fair, and my mysterious benefactor had fully paid for me to have a booth of my own. You can imagine how I agonized over the decision of what pieces to display in that limited square tent. I decided to present as good a mixture as possible, focusing on mostly light and cheery pieces with only one that was dark in nature. I was quite surprised when Blood Cherries, a medley of black iron, bronze paint and ruby chips, was the first to sell. Suncatcher was next, its delightful mixture of sunstones, dried sunflower petals and shards of crystal making it a wonderful windchime for the sun priggle who collected anything in honor of her color.

All but one of my pieces sold that day. A string of such fairs had me featured in an issue of Mirage as one of Subeta's most exciting up-and-coming artists. It took a few years before the big wigs took notice of the multi-material movement sweeping Centropolis. My rise seemed to happen overnight. Suddenly, everybody who was anybody was calling me up and demanding one of my sculptures or enhanced paintings. My tiny apartment could not hold my many commissions and offer me a place to sleep. Fortunately, a few huge orders soon provided a remedy, allowing me to take a condo just two doors down from Autumn and the house beside hers on Veta Lake.

I am the queen of the experimental materials genre of art.

An artist develops a sense for the conditions necessary to inspire art. I do not know why I need to be in my Centropolis condo today. I only know it is here, high above the street musicians, taxi cabs and lesser skyscrapers that my latest vision of artistic perfection will come to me.

The vision of a stained glass window painted with calligraphy strokes around the border and boasting scraps of fabric coated in dyed sand that almost looks like sugar candy is before me. It will have all the charm of a beloved aunt's seaside cottage with the edge of modernity in the metallic sunbursts that will be worked into the sand sections.

I do not see the overall picture when I am working on the details. I am entirely focused on the sand to dye ratio or the precise cut of the frame. I am blind to Illusion's antics, the postion of the sun in the sky, and the movements of my assistant as he uncovers the easel that holds his pet project.

I cannot continue to ignore him so easily when he comes to stand at my back, patiently waiting for me to take a break. I have him well trained in that, at least. To interrupt the flow of my creative genius is a one-way ticket to a massive tongue-lashing.

The gentle clearing of his throat is a trespass that cannot be forgiven. I am gratified to see the way be flinches at my glare of annoyance. He has no small amount of talent as an artist, but he is very young. There are older and more temperamental artists that would never let me get away with such a look. I can think of a half-dozen that could even better the look. I like to think I am not quite that exclusive.

"I'm sorry, Crystallon, but the Central City Art Show is starting in half an hour and the spotlighted artists are going to be desiring your input on lighting after that catastrophe at the Vesnali Pastel Showcase."

Ah, the trials of owning a half-share in an art gallery. I certainly do not want a repeat, however. The lack of lighting made the cheerful Vesnali painting set appear almost as dismal as a set prepared for Morostide.

"Yes, certainly, I'll leave directly. I only need to finalize this coat so that the sand will not run into the paint. Go ahead and see to it that the chosen pieces are set by the display model I gave you."

He leaves without another word. He's not a bad sort, for an apprentice. His obsession for black and white contrast could use some tweaking and he really needs to work on thoroughly cleaning his supplies down to the last drop of paint but he does have vision. Hikei Metal Stripes might even make it into a gallery someday.

What an inspired thought! It's funny how they can strike out of nowhere, giving a whole new depth to a shaping piece when you come to realize some aqua sea glass and bits of coral will be the perfect accessories to really give it that oceanside feel.

Illusion may cause trouble by popping out in front of unsuspecting visitors and materializing but he is also a fantastic organizer. For his efforts, it takes me less than five minutes to locate exactly the glass pieces I need.

The final window layout is nearly perfect, though a few of the joints need work. Note to self: order flux soon.

Oh, serpenth spit! The art show! They'll be opening the doors to the public in five minutes and it's a drive clear across town.

The trick to arriving fashionably late is letting the crowd believe you are arriving at exactly the intended time.

A casual smile here, a quick word with one of the directors there, and I am set at the center of attention without so much as a sideways glance of disapproval.

Fans and friends alike rarely know what to make of me and this is just how I like it. Let them speculate on my ability to hide what is on my mind like a poker player. Let them dissect my sentences and looks for every possible meaning. I live for allure and mystery is a flavoring in my coffee.

I am gracious in accepting compliments on the new displays including Antiquities of Atebus, a series of paintings and sculptures that take on the styles popular on the moon a hundred years ago, accented with stripes and chunks of celestium ore. The youth contest was my assistant's idea, allowing a budding group of young artists to proudly display their works. It is a good way to draw new interest (and new business for the gift shop). I must remember to personally thank him for the contribution of his idea. Autumn never lacks for admirers. Her newest painting, Twilit Dream Field, is bidding into the millions.

My good mood takes a hit at the sight of Gerrold P. Cybillian. He is a self-asserted art critic with about as much taste for art as an admirer of grease stains on a fast food wrapper. He also makes it a point to attend every art show within convenient walking distance of his humble penthouse. There is not an artist on the continent that would shed a tear if he took a prolonged expedition to Arctic Frost.

As a hostess, I must be gracious when he greets me by name. With every comment he has on my latest rag-tag batch of pieces of garbage tied together with bits of wire, Illusion manages to make a distinct silly face. Gerrold is affronted by my inability to focus on him for more than a few seconds at a time. Every time he whips his head around to see what I'm staring at, Illusion makes himself entirely invisible. Gerrold's face is quite red by the time he figures out the game being played at his expense and by this time half the gallery is having a good laugh. His beak goes in the air and he proclaims that he has better places to spend his afternoon. Illusion is getting a half-bag of minion nip for this, I swear.

I am much more pleased to catch the eye of Celina Crystallis, a celinox who freelances for the Subeta Tribune. To her questions about what the population can expect next, I give a few juicy leads and plenty of tantalizing hints. It wouldn't be the first time my well-spoken promotions for this gallery gained us a column on the first page.

Autumn is a dear, using her advantage of escaping the press hour to get us a good table at Cafe Kumos. She even has a steaming cup of oolong tea waiting for me. Illusion wastes no time renewing his friendship with her cute little Chichi minion Pooftail. The two of them will see to it there is not a single crumb left on the cafe floor by the time we are ready to go home.

"Let me be the first to congratulate you on your handling of the Cybillian situation, Crys."

I join her in a round of hearty laughter. "Honestly, I could tolerate him better if he didn't talk in such an affected manner. Not even Saggitarius feels the need to address himself in the third person."

"He is a test on the patience of the inspired! We shouldn't be too harsh on him, though. Money he has in plenty, but he has always lacked for friends."

I take a deep sip, sighing in satisfaction. "So tell me about this new project. I hear you've dedicated your time to painting that tree on the edge of your cabin property in all seasons."

She waves a hoof. "Oh, that. It's only a side project, a little something to keep me busy in those rare hours when my portrait demand is low."

"Which is about once every ten years, am I right?"

Another easy laugh and she is quizzing me for news. She's quite intrigued with the window that will definitely benefit from her suggestion of sapphire paint swirls to accompany the calligraphy stroke edges.

"Will you be coming to the lake this weekend, Autumn?"

"I hope to make it up there Sunday, but I have a gathering planned that I'm hoping will draw a few of the park planning people. Just imagine how much Subeta's communal garden would benefit from a mural depicting the efforts of Subetans coming together to make Subeta a greener place!"

"I'm picking up an angel food cake because I know how much you like them. I know you won't disappoint me by not coming to help me eat it."

We part with mutual compliments and Autumn's renewed promise to give me half a day of tranquility.

I love showcasing my work and I adore the opportunity to bring new viewers to the gallery, but sometimes an artist just needs a few hours of seclusion.

My cabin is perfect. It is near enough to the lake to grant a spectacular view but situated so that I never have tourists splashing outside my window or leaping from my private dock. The attached studio always has a few long-term projects that I am in no great hurry to display.

The best of these is a sculpture I have been working on for three years now. It is not a painting or a frieze or a massive sculpture. It is all of these and more. It is inclusive of every hero and villain of Subeta ever to be granted an entry in the Supetapedia. The base materials range from cloth to metal to wood to plastic. The finer details are placed with gemstones, preserved leaves, bits of glass, pebbles, seashells, swatches of carpet, and just about any other material that can be easily cut and safely hung on a wall. It is to be presented as a very special gift on the anniversary of Sebastian Phoenix's rise to the position of Chancellor.

~Credits~

Profile by: Ringo
Extra Code by: Yuzu
Edited by: Chrysariel
Story by: Pureflower
Overlay by: Hound
Night Sky Stars by: GIPHY
Name and Tag Art by: Chrysariel

(Legacy name Crystallon)